Game Over
by The Unforgiving Mountain Jew
Summary: Allen Walker was a rather ordinary Brit, right up until he was stabbed to death in the streets of his home town. If that wasn't bad enough, a power that he never wanted is shoved on his shoulders and he's taken from his home to a universe filled with criminals, terrorists and monsters that crave the death of all things human. Gamer OC fic.
1. Game Over

**You're dead!**

Allen Walker looked at the words for a long moment. The only thing before him in a field of white that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

"Ah...how unfortunate..." Allen said to himself. It wasn't too much of a shock considering he could vividly remember himself dying just mere moments ago.

He had been walking down the street from the local tea shop when he had taken his usual shortcut through an alleyway. It was rather late at night but it was Christmas eve and his friends at the shop threw a small party that he enjoyed greatly. His face was aching from laughing and smiling so much as he stepped into the bitter cold and snow. His pockets were full of sweets and teas and he looked forward snacking on them on Christmas.

Allen would be the first to admit that he wasn't the best person but he liked to think he was far from the worst. He worked hard, shared what he could afford to share. He was polite. He laughed easy and was slow to anger. He did stupid things and pissed people off, but he was a teenager; that was a given.

All in all, he was a rather ordinary Brit.

So, it was a rather large surprise when some blighter murdered him in cold blood.

He heard footsteps behind him before he felt a burning sharp pain in his back. Allen remembered crying out, more in shock than in pain at first. But after the seconds stab...and the third...and the fourth...all the way to the tenth, those screams were of pain. After his murderer was done poking him full of holes, Allen was pushed forward. He barely even felt it as his face slammed into the snow-covered cobblestone.

He tried to get up, to move, to fight back, or at the very least see the person that murdered him...but all he could do was lay where he fell, his strength slowly bleeding out of him. His blood dyed the snow red and more fell from the sky and covered him.

After that...everything faded. First the pain. Then the cold. Then the noise. Then the color until everything faded to black.

An eternity seemed to pass in that single moment. It was like blinking but it seemed to take forever. Allen could feel himself dying-no, he felt himself die. Then...then he opened his eyes and he was in a field of nothingness.

The words reacted to Allen's voice. The words confirming his death disappeared and the ones that replaced them puzzled him greatly.

 **Would you like to start a new game?**

Allen looked at the words that hovered before him. A typhoon of emotions swirling inside him as he looked at the inconspicuous words. He was still reeling from his death, his murder. It was confusing enough when he opened his eyes after dying. Even more so when he took in his surroundings and the first message, but now...as he looked at the new message, Allen was completely lost.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to demand answers to the uncountable number of questions that he had.

Who killed him? What did he do to deserve being murdered? Who would find his body? Would it be one of his friends or someone that was just passing by? Was this the afterlife? Heaven? Hell? What did it mean by 'start a new game?' Was that all his life was? A game? Was he even in control of his actions? If life was a game, then did that mean the player was a god? Was there a god? What did it all mean? What was the purpose of life? To entertain some nameless, faceless player, or god, until his untimely demise? Was all life was just a realistic version of The Sims?

Allen felt everything wash over him. Fear. Confusion. Anger...it all crashed over him, threatening to overwhelm him. It should have. He should be screaming, crying and more. He should have broken down in a senseless, weeping, heap.

However, instead, he looked at the question that hovered just before him. He felt his mouth go dry as he sucked in a slow breath.

"Yes...I would like to start a new game."

Everything changed in an instant. Allen didn't blink, but in a fraction of a second the endless whiteness vanished and the deafening silence was replaced with the familiar sounds of the city. He could hear people talking and cars honking. He stood in an alleyway, one not unlike the one he was murdered in. However, as he looked around, he noticed several key differences.

The first was that there was no snow. There wasn't even a chill in the air. The walkway was concrete instead of century old cobblestone. The sun was shining in a bright blue sky instead of nighttime.

So he wasn't where he was killed. That was...good? It greatly decreased the chance of him being killed again by the same arsehole and, provided that no one saw him, being mistaken for a zombie. However, it did mean that he was somehow teleported, but that was rather low on the list of things he had to freak out about.

On the top of that list was the fact that he had somehow been brought back to life.

Allen looked at the blue sky for a long moment before he took in a deep breath and let out slowly. Then he took another. And another. And another. And another one after that. He could feel panic rising in his chest and he doing his best to push it down but it was of little use. Within seconds, the calming breaths became him hyperventilating.

Most people think that when faced with an impossibility that they would just roll with the punches. That they would look at the impossibility and go 'huh, that's weird but whatever.'

Most people were wrong.

When faced with something that shouldn't be possible, or even something that they didn't understand, it was just human nature to reject it. Hate it. Fear it. Most simply can't cope with the fact that their entire world was shattered, or even changed. So, they tried to ignore it, pretend like it didn't exist, and failing that, hate it enough in an attempt to keep it out of their lives. Some would even hate it enough that hating that change, person, or object took over their lives.

Failing that, most mentally broke down.

Allen was no exception.

"Ohh...oh shit...I-I-I...!" He muttered to himself as he hunched over, placing his hands on his knees. It felt like someone just punched him in the gut, expelling the breaths he took. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, to make some sense of it, he couldn't explain what had just happened to him.

He had died. Then he came back.

Allen felt cold dread grip his heart, he felt tears sting at his eyes, his mind was a place of chaos. He fell down, his legs no longer having the strength to support him and he fell on his butt. However, he barely felt it. He was numb. Nothing made sense, nothing was as it should be. He had died! He was dead! How-

Just when Allen felt his sanity threaten to snap, right when it all threatened to overwhelm him and he would be reduced to a screaming lunatic...it stopped.

Allen couldn't describe it. It was like something just pushed all the dark, crazy feelings that tried to overwhelm him and just shoved them down. He could still feel the panic in his chest, he was still just as scared and just as confused but it was...distant. He still felt the anger, fear and panic but, for whatever reason, those emotions just couldn't affect his mind. Where his mind was once a chaotic mess of emotions and thoughts, now only a cold calmness reigned. It let him...think instead of just reacting to what happened.

It freaked Allen just as much and just like before, right when Allen began to freak out about it, he felt the same calmness force his panic down.

Allen sucked in a few breaths and let them out before he leaned back against one of the walls. He stared at the wall across from him and just thought. He acknowledged the feelings battling in his chest but he knew sitting here and panicking wouldn't do a damn thing for him.

The biggest question was what all of this meant. He died-the panic was once again forced down-then that field of white, then...

Allen had an impossible thought. A thought he would have dismissed outright any other time. However, in the last five minutes he died and was resurrected; so, he was rather open to suggestions.

Allen nervously licked his lips before he spoke, "status window." He had to suppress a shout of surprise when, without warning, a window screen appeared before him.

 **Allen Walker**

 **Title: The Gamer**

 **Health: 100 hp. Mana: 50**

 **Level: 1 Exp: 0%**

 **Strength 10**

 **Vitality 10**

 **Dexterity 10**

 **Intelligence 10**

 **Wisdom 10**

 **Luck 10**

 **Points to spend: 0**

Allen stared at the window screen, hoping that if he glared hard enough that it would just disappear. That the memories of the last five minutes would just be a horrible dream and he would wake up in his flat. He would tell Cherie, that cute waitress at his tea shop all about it before he would go to school. He would tell his friends, they would make fun of him and all would be right with the world.

However, no matter how hard he glared, no matter how much he wished it all was just a dream, the window still hovered in front of him. Denial was rapidly losing its leg to stand on and the cold, calm, logical part of his brain was giving it a push out the door; making him face reality.

"Okay...okay. Alright. When it said start a new game...it meant start a new game. Okay, Allen, you got this," Allen muttered to himself, trying to talk himself into accepting this new reality.

Allen's eyes fell on the title that hung underneath his name. "The Gamer." Cautiously he pressed the title. His finger didn't connect with anything solid but, at the same time, he felt himself press something. Before he could investigate the mysterious feeling, a window popped up.

 **The Gamer- the title given to the Gamer.**

"That tells me piss all," Allen said to the screen, annoyed at the stunning lack of any information. He dismissed the window and turned his attention to his stats.

Just looking at them, Allen could tell he was nerfed. He was fit, worked out regularly and ran every morning. So, his strength and vitality stats should be higher than that. On the other hand, his wisdom was higher than it should be. Allen was a teenager and all teenagers are stupid. All of them. He didn't have a dark and dreary childhood that could justify being wise at the ripe age of sixteen.

Allen eyed his luck stat and resisted the urge to sneer. Lady Luck sure hadn't blessed him with her presence today.

He didn't have anything to compare it to, but his stats seemed alright for his level. Based on what he was seeing, he was a video game character. Most likely an RPG. So, to level up, and earn stat points, he would need to do quests. How, or where, he hadn't the faintest, but he would burn that bridge when he crossed it. For now, he needed to understand what exactly was done to him.

Allen hummed to himself, glaring at the pathetic numbers before he noticed the tabs in the corner.

Status. Inventory. Skills. Options.

Allen pressed inventory out of curiosity and saw the standard inventory menu. A presentation of him in the corner and his clothes in equipment slots. There was even a notification about his phone, candy and wallet in his pockets; and when he clicked his wallet it told him how much money he had in it.

Allen tilted his head in thought before he drug the icon that represented his phone into one of the empty inventory slots. When he reached into his pocket, he noticed that his phone was missing.

"That's useful...," Allen muttered before he slowly reached out to the window and to his shock, the screen rippled as his hand sunk into it. However, he did his best not to freak out and thought of his phone and when he pulled his hand out, his phone was in his hand. "Yeah...that's really useful," Allen concluded. He would have to investigate more but the potential of that ability alone was almost staggering.

He pressed the Skill tab after that and a number of his unspoken questions were answered.

 **Gamer Body (passive)- Ability to allow the user to live in reality as if it were a game.**

 **Gamer Mind (passive)- Allows the user to calmly and logically to think things through. Immunity to all physiological effects.**

Allen looked at the two skills and his mind raced.

Gamer Mind explained quite a bit. A game character didn't fear the future and when faced with an obstacle, he worked his way through them. He didn't fear, he didn't panic; no matter the situation or the odds, a game character just moved forward until the objective was done.

That was mostly because the character was being controlled by a player, but when Allen thought about it, it made sense. Since he wasn't being controlled, while at the same time being a game character, Gamer Mind was the solution. He could still be as calm as a gamer, but have all the physical perks of being a character.

It would also help him in battle, though he didn't anticipate getting into any fights. If he was jumped again, possibly by multiple people, instead of seizing up with fear like he normally would, he would be able to react calmly. Possibly talk his way out of the situation.

As his mind raced, Allen couldn't help but feel incredibly thankful for the skill. It didn't say, but Allen knew that it was the only reason he wasn't a raving lunatic at the moment.

Allen paused in thought before he pinched himself. Then harder, with the edge of his nails when it didn't have the desired result. It wasn't until he broke skin that a window popped up in front of him notifying him that he lost a single point of health. Allen paid it no mind in favor of watching the wound.

He could only be stunned when he watched the skin meld back together and the little pain he felt disappear along with it. Allen checked his HP and saw that he was still missing that one point of health.

"That's awesome," Allen said aloud, giving his head a small shake of disbelief. He really shouldn't be surprised but he couldn't help it.

Think of all the abuse that a game character gets put through. Beaten, stabbed, shot, mauled, falling from high up, stepping on landmines, getting mauled by dragons; all that abuse and a game character just patches himself up by eating a couple of cheese wheels and keeps moving. No matter how bad the damage or how many broken bones, they kept moving and fighting until that hp bar hits zero.

That same logic applied to him. He didn't know the extent his body was affected, not without some experimentation, but theoretically, he should be able to heal broken bones by sleeping them off. Get shot? Eat some bread. Stabbed? Have a thin mint and a cup of tea.

No matter what he did to his body, he should be able to bounce back from it so long as he had hp left.

After taking a very long minute to appreciate that fact, Allen pressed the options tab and saw that it was rather limited. He pressed his finger on one of the little nods and drug it to the right; in response, a pleasant tune started up around him. Allen let out a laugh and shook his head in amusement and disbelief.

"I have a theme song," Allen said to himself before he drug the node back to mute. It was awesome, but after a minute of it, it got a little annoying not being able to hear himself think. "Huh...I wonder if I have battle music...," Allen thought aloud before he fiddled with the other nodes.

He flipped on subtitles and laughed again when he saw that he had them. He laughed harder when he saw the subtitle pop up for him laughing. He laughed even harder when the box changed to 'laughing intensifies.'

Then he saw the interface for the pop ups and he quickly changed it. Now instead of a window popping up every time he did something, most would simply appear his mind. To test it out, he gave himself another pinch and nodded in satisfaction as he suddenly knew that he lost another point of health.

Then, surprising him, a window popped up in front of him.

 **Through a special action, a skill has been created!**

 **Physical Endurance (passive) Lvl 1 Exp: 0%-** **The durability of your body goes up and you take less damage. 3% less damage taken.**

 **Through expirementation, your Intllgence has increased by 1**

Allen read the skill over a few times and nodded slowly. That was useful, but he was a bit annoyed that it didn't appear in his mind. He couldn't exactly click it to make it go away when he was with a group of people, now could he? He already thought he might have gone insane, he didn't need others agreeing with him. A look at the second screen brought a headach. He was smarter now? What?

Allen closed out of his options and looked blankly at the wall across from him. The events, the world shattering, life changing events that transpired over the course of thirty minutes. He died, came back to life as a video game character.

Allen leaned his head back, resting against the cold stone and closed his eyes for a long moment. Then he let out a soft sigh.

"I need to get properly sloshed."

...

Allen knocked back another shot before he placed it on the top of the pyramid with exaggerated care. He let out a huff when it fell but didn't bother trying again.

While he could see all of the possibilities of his new ability, it apparently had a few flaws as well. The foremost one was that he couldn't get drunk, at least not for very long. Alcohol was technically a poison and his ability treated it as such. After taking the second shot, a window popped letting him know he developed a abnormal resistance skill; granting him 1% resistance to any kind of toxin.

So, in an attempt to spite the skill, he knocked back almost a dozen shots in a couple of seconds; earning concerned looks from the bartender and a few that were standing by.

Allen groaned in annoyance as the buzz rapidly faded and ignored the stacked windows letting him know that his poison tolerance went up to level three.

"Rough day?" Allen heard a gruff voice behind him ask. He peeked from under his arms and saw it was a tall man in his mid-twenties dressed in a sharp suit, minus the blazer. He had on a pair of red sunglasses, even in the dim lighting on the nightclub. However, what caught his eyes was the number that hung over his head.

 **Hei Xiong**

 **24**

 **Broker**

Allen's eyes lingered on the number for a long second, the last wisps of his buzz vanishing like vapor. He was level 1 and from what he gathered on his walk to the bar; teenagers were in the 1-5 range while most adults were in the 5-10.

This guy was more than twice as strong as the average, and, more importantly, much stronger than him. He didn't know what it meant by 'broker' but he certainly wasn't enjoying the thought of what it sounded like.

"You could say that," Allen responded neutrally as he forced himself up. He spun in his chair to face the man fully and it was then that he noticed the two women standing at his sides. They looked like sisters; the same pale skin, same green eyes and black hair. The only real difference between them were the dresses they wore, and even those were the same make, only the colors were different.

 **Miltiades Malachite**

 **26**

 **Rose with thorns**

 **Melanie Malachite**

 **26**

 **Blooming Orchid**

Ohhh...goodie. More people that could kill him on accident.

 **A skill has been created!**

 **Observe Lvl 1 Exp: 0%**

 **By paying attention to your surroundings, you gather more information about them.**

Allen ignored the window in favor of listening to the man over the music.

"Bad enough to knock drinks back like that?" Hei asked as he took a seat next to Allen, making him tense. Hei didn't show it, but he noticed, making him smile.

Allen paused, his mind racing, but it only took him a moment to realize that he needed to lie. If he started spewing about how he died and came back with a new ability, he'd be in the loonie bin before the hour was over. However, he didn't know anything about this man. For all he knew, he could help him, or be crazy enough to believe him.

'Observe' Allen thought and a window popped up in front of him.

 **Hei Xiong**

 **Level 24**

 **Title: Broker**

 **The owner of The Club. Prefers to be called Junior.**

Again, that helped him precisely piss all.

"Yeah. I got jumped in an alley and dumped here. Wherever here is," Allen said shortly with a shrug, deciding to lie. It was close enough to the truth; he was attacked and he had no idea where he was. The only clues he picked up was this guys name, which sounded Asian, probably Chinese or something, though he didn't look it considering he was nearly seven feet tall. That and the fact the menu was written in English, and everyone spoke it so wherever he was English was the prominent language. That narrowed it down a fair bit.

Though they didn't have English accents. Most of them sounded American.

Allen saw an eyebrow peek over the sunglasses, "I'm hoping that they didn't take your wallet." He said, nodding at Allen's collapsed pyramid. Allen, however, just shook his head and took out his wallet.

"Nope," Allen said, popping the p, "the blighters jumped me and knocked me out. When I came to, I was lying in an alley a couple of hours ago. Left everything on me; just took me for a ride before dropping me off wherever here is." Allen explained as he looked into the taller, and much, much, much stronger man's eyes. It was difficult because he wore those red sunglasses, even in the dim lighting of the club.

Junior looked down at the kid with an impassive face. He had gotten a call from his bouncer, letting him know that he let a kid in. Before he could chew the guy out for doing something so stupid, his doorman said that it was because the kid looked like he could use a drink or a couple.

It was a Monday afternoon, so the club was slow. Practically dead. Mondays were always slow and their main attractions didn't start up until the latter hours. Because it was slow, he didn't have to keep an eye on things, and because of that, he was bored. Incredibly bored.

So, purely out of curiosity, he walked down to the floor and spotted the kid doing shots like there was no tomorrow.

Junior knew the kid was lying, or at the very least doctoring the truth a fair bit. The main clue of that was the fact that his hoodie had quite a few cuts in it, surrounded by what Junior instantly recognized as blood. So, the kid had been stabbed by someone who really wanted him dead from the looks of it. The second was the fact someone kidnapping him just to drop him off with his money didn't make much sense. Either they were crappy friends or there was more to the story.

That caught his interest. What kept it was the kids accent. Junior never heard it before and it was far too distinct for the kid to be making it up for giggles. He even used words in a different and amusing way.

What's more, as an information broker, he could spot a lie from a mile away. It was a necessity for the job, else he would sell false information and there were reasons he was the best in Vale.

He could see that the only true parts of the kids story were that he didn't know where he was and that he was jumped. Though, the hoodie gave that away.

It was because of all of these reasons that he just didn't toss the kid out on his ass. However, the reason why he reached over the counter and grabbed a bottle was because the kid was entertainment for the night.

This kid had an accent he didn't recognize, a hoodie telling the story of a murder, and a story that didn't fit the facts, or make much sense.

"Sounds rough. So long as you can pay, the drinks will flow." Junior said as he poured the kid a drink, ignoring the suspicious look from him and the curious ones from the girls.

While Allen couldn't get drunk, it would be rude to toss the offer in the man's face. With practiced ease, he drained the shot and began rebuilding the pyramid.

"And, to let you know, you're in The Club. I'm Junior," he pointed to himself before he nodded at the two women that stood behind Allen, both looking at him with curiosity buried under contempt and looks of superiority. "The one in the red is Miltiades Malachite and the one in the white is Melanie; they're twins," Junior filled in helpfully.

Allen nodded his head at the women, "ladies, a pleasure," he said, all the while thinking that they had odd names. They were both gorgeous, a handful of years older than him and if he was honest with himself, very far out of his league. That fact was reinforced when the Miltiades practically sneered at his attempt to be smooth.

The rejection of a beautiful woman was so far down on his lists of things to worry about that he didn't even miss a beat in turning in his chair and knocking back another shot. He even smiled a bit when the skill leveled up and granting him a 4% resistance to poison.

Junior's eyebrows rose. Either the kid was an alcoholic, gay, or he had some serious confidence to not even bat an eyelash when Miltiades gave him that looked that just screamed 'I'm a goddess and you are a shitstain in comparison.'

This kid got more interesting by the second.

"My names Allen Walker by the way," Allen said, raising his fourteenth shot as a toast before draining it. He felt the beginnings of a buzz form before it quickly vanished. He could feel that warmness in his gut but the alcohol couldn't affect his mind. It seemed that he really was immune to mental status effects.

Junior nodded, thinking that even Allen's name was weird.

"So, did you get a look at the guys that jumped you? Depends on where it was, I might be able to help out." Junior offered, playing along with Allen's lie.

"I was walking down Queens Avenue when the wankers got me and no. By the time I realized what was happening, it was already too late." Allen said, thinking back on the fresh memories. He couldn't have done anything to stop it; he didn't expect to be murdered nor was he prepared. There was nothing he could have done to change what happened. That pissed him off and the angry expression on his face only added to the lie.

Junior thought of every street he knew of; while he wasn't a walking map, he knew the major roads and the ones popular for drug deals and exchanges off the top of his head. However, he never heard of a Queens Avenue, and considering that Vale was governed by a council...

"Hmmmm, sorry. I don't know it," he apologized while his mind was turning over the possibilities. Was he from another country? There were a few very minor ones that answered to the big four that still retained a monarch; maybe that's where the accent was from. There weren't many, Junior could count them on one hand and still have a few fingers left over, so it narrowed things down a fair bit.

The thing was, none of them were near Vale.

"No worries, I can find my way back home after I've gotten my head on straight," Allen said, topping off the pyramid with a lopsided grin. Junior looked impressed; Allen clearly had a liver made of iron if he was still functioning after fifteen shots.

'Now that I think about it...' Junior thought, giving Allen a cynical eye. Allen's speech wasn't slurred, not even a little. He hadn't noticed at first because of the accent, but there was no way that after fifteen shots, with his build, could still be talking like he was sober.

Allen just got more and more interesting.

However, to Juniors dismay, Allen stood up, struggling with the act slightly, before he tipped an imaginary hat at him while taking out his wallet. "Thanks for the drinks and the offer to help," he said slapping a few tenners on the table, a large tip for not calling him out on his underage drinking and for actually being concerned about him.

He turned on his heel and nodded at Miltiades and Melanie, who both looked down at him though it had an edge of frustration and annoyance. Allen didn't take that as a good sign and made to quickly get out of the club, else they might start nagging him, but he was stopped by Juniors voice.

"Oi, Allen," Junior said and when he turned around he saw Junior holding up his bills. Allen's brow furrowed in confusion, he should have paid far more than enough to cover his tab so he didn't know what Juniors problem could be-

'Crap,' Allen mentally swore. If he wasn't in England, then they wouldn't take his money.

"We don't take this," Junior said, confirming his fear. "Do you have any lien?" He asked, making Allen's thoughts grind to a halt.

'Lien?' Allen silently questioned; unless that was American slang for dollars, he might not be where he thought he was. Lien almost sounded Asian. However, knowing that if he asked what a lien was, or even what country he was in, wasn't possible without bringing up some questions that he wasn't prepared to answer. Instead, he rolled with it.

"No...no I don't. I thought you'd accept a couple of pounds." He said in a solemn tone before he took an eager step forward. "Since you don't, I can work it off. I was a dishwasher at a restaurant, soo..." Allen trailed off, giving the impression that he was nervous.

However, Junior barely noticed.

Allen had an accent that he didn't recognize. His jacket looked like it was stabbed to death. He didn't know where he was. Could absorb alcohol like a sponge and be completely unaffected by it. Then, he tries to pay in a currency with a picture of some lady's face with a crown.

Junior didn't know who Allen was, but now he defiantly wanted to find out and Allen just gave him the perfect excuse keep him here until he did.

Junior nodded, "that sounds fair. You can sit around for a couple of hours to sober up, but when it gets dark is when we get busy. After your shift ends, we'll be square."

After that, Junior lead him into the dish pit. It was exactly what he would expect from a high-end night club. They had a little assembly line; a sink to wash, a dishwasher, then a drying area along with racks to dry. After re-familiarizing himself with the equipment, he leaned back and waited for time to tick down while he answered some of Juniors questions.

…

Allen let out a sigh as he walked out of The Club. It was well past midnight and Junior wasn't kidding when he said that they really pick up in the latter hours. It had been a frenzy and it was only thanks to the dish washing skill that he created early on that he managed to keep up.

'That stain removal buff saved my life,' Allen thought with a small grin tugging at his lips. It had been so bad that he leveled it up to ten in the first hour.

He noticed after that once it hit ten, it took a lot longer to level it up in comparison. He still managed to, but where he hit level ten in an hour, he leveled it up once every thirty minutes since.

The other good thing about it getting busy was that Junior left him alone. He liked him; he didn't get pissed when he couldn't pay and didn't throw him out when he was clearly underage. He even offered him a job when the night was over. However, the subtle inquiries about his background put him on edge.

Junior didn't seem like the kind of bloke that would sell nerve gas to a five-year-old if there was a couple of quid in it for him, but the guy did reek of criminal. A high-class criminal, but a criminal nonetheless. So, when he spent a couple of hours poking at Allen's story and background, it put him on edge. Like he was trying to test the waters before he recruited him for something.

Junior didn't get much out of him. He did his best to keep his answers vague; never mentioned cities, names of stores, his school or even the names of his friends and family. Instead of annoying the man to the point that he just left him alone, it seemed to only make him press more with...excitement?

Whatever it was, it wore on Allen and he was glad when Junior left him alone.

Now that work was finally over, he just needed somewhere to get some sleep and in the morning, he could start looking into where he was and how to get home. If he could find a cash exchange, he could find a hotel that didn't put him at risk of catching a venereal disease when he laid on the bed. He was tired but he wasn't enough so would sleep on a bench in the middle of a city.

He could get robbed, or killed again.

The thought made Allen sigh again. A lot happened today but the day was finally coming to a close. After he found a way home, he would find the bugger that murdered him, kick his head in, then pick back up where he left off with a few extra perks. He would flirt with Cherie, he would goof off in class with his mates, he would get in fights with his dad about how late he could stay out and he would ignore his sister's attempts at mocking him when he didn't get his way.

"Everything is going to go back to normal," Allen said, waiting for the walk signal to turn white. He looked up at the cloudy night sky and he felt all the tension melt from him. He relaxed at the promise and found comfort in it. He felt a weight lift off his chest and it was only after it was gone that he realized that it was almost crushing him.

"Everything is going to go back to normal," he repeated with a soft smile on his face. It would all be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

However, his soft smile slowly turned into a frown, and then open mouth horror as the clouds parted and revealed the moon.

What was left of it.

Allen stared at the moon, his brain trying to shut down at the sight but Gamer Mind stopping the process before he could even begin. He could only stare helplessly at it, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He was frozen in place, the turn signal long since turned white and a someone on a bike was glaring at him in annoyance.

As Allen stared up at the shattered remnants of the moon, only one word came to mind. As the thoughts and hopes of returning home and living a normal life shattered only one word summed up how he felt. As he realized what this meant for him, only one word described his situation.

"Shit."

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I wrote this on a whim after reading Gamer Arc by SmilingJester. If enough people like it, I'll continue it.**


	2. At the top of a downward spiral pt 1

**Dish washing has leveled up!**

 **Dishwashing Lvl 86 Exp: 0%**

 **Stains now remove 90% easier. Dishes are 60% harder to stain for up to 10 hours after being washed. Will sparkle in the right lighting.**

Allen blinked at the sudden influx of information before it quickly faded to the back of his mind. After two weeks of working full time as a dishwasher, he leveled it up nicely. The buffs made his job a hundred times easier and with the help of the dishwasher, he barely did anything. Now he just wiped the dish once with a sponge and BOOM! The stain was gone!

The one drawback was that the work was so easy, it was mindbogglingly boring.

Allen sighed as he put the last plate on the rack before sending it through the dishwasher. He didn't hate the job, he just couldn't stand the monotomous of it. It felt like hours passed for every minute the clock ticked by. For eight hours, every day, he stood in the same place, washed the same dishes, made the same small talk with the kitchen staff until it got busy. Then it got busy for a couple of hours and when it slowed down, his shift ended.

Then Junior would catch him before he left. Thankfully the questions about his past had died down after a couple of days. Now the theme of them was 'what are you going to do now?'

Thing was, Allen didn't have a bloody clue.

He was in a completely different universe.

It took him days to accept that fact. After he looked up at the shattered moon, he blew off sleep and B-lined for some kind of information source. His phone didn't have a signal, neither for wifi, so he was stuck with traditional methods.

He went to a library and grabbed the first history book that he saw.

Absolutely none of it had anything to do with England, Europe, the west, or earth in general. It was full of faunus wars, Grimm, and other nonsense. So, thinking that it was a work of fiction, he grabbed another book and it was full of the same crap. So was the next. And the one after that. And the one after that, all the way until he got kicked out of the library for being a disturbance.

He was in a different universe. Allen thought nothing could trump the unbelievableness of coming back to life as a game character, but apparently he was wrong. Very, very, very, very wrong.

He still didn't accept it, not fully. However, he had resigned himself to the fact that there simply wasn't anything that he could do. The only ways he could possibly get home was to either find someone that had access to a multidimensional portal or create a skill that allowed him to jump universes until he found his own.

Each had their own problems.

So, he pushed his problems, concerns and fears to the dark corners of his mind. Even with Gamer Mind keeping him calm so he could think them through, he just...he just didn't want to accept that harsh truth.

Then he grieved. He grieved for his father. His sister. His friends. His old life...because he knew that he wouldn't see them again, at least not anytime soon. From where he was, they all seemed so impossibly far away that they might as well be dead to him. Odds were that he was already dead to them.

All the while he grieved and rejected, Gamer Mind played a crucial role. Normally, Allen would be too depressed to do, well, anything. He would sit at home and mope until something snapped him out of it, or his family gave him a much-needed kick in the butt.

Now, however, he couldn't afford that and Gamer Mind kept him calm enough for him to know it. Where would he sleep? Live? How would he eat? What about new clothes? With what money? What about a job? School? How could he become a citizen if there were no records of him ever existing?

What did he do now?

It was only thanks to Gamer Mind that he managed to pull himself together enough to go back to Junior and take him up on the job that he offered. Naturally, that lead to some questions about his sudden change in plans. He prepared a few lies but he knew that they wouldn't hold up if Junior put him on blast. However, it turned out that he didn't need to.

Junior already imagined a background for him thanks to his vague answers and accent. Junior thought he was from outside the four kingdoms, from village or something, that tried to make it in the big city. He fell in with the wrong crowd and got whacked when he got over his head. However, the execution didn't take and now he was lost and alone in the kingdom of Vale since he couldn't go back to the gang or his family, else they'd finish the job. The story was vague, just like his answers were, but Allen made absolutely no move to correct him and silently committed the story to memory.

After that, Junior offered him a job as a full-time dishwasher at a decent wage and Allen accepted. He used his first paycheck to rent out a studio apartment in a seedy part of town and most of the second went to keeping that apartment running while the rest was used for food and new clothes. Well, new to him at least. He was hoping that his third would leave him with enough left over to start building up a safety fund in case something happened, but bills were expensive, so he didn't have high hopes.

'I need to find another job,' Allen thought to himself as he worked on autopilot. It would be a bit difficult, considering that he worked the night shifts, so working anything with a morning shift would just wear him out after a few days. 'I think Dust Till Dawn was hiring...'

"Walker," Allen was broken out of his thoughts when he heard and saw that Melanie was standing at the doorway to the dish pit. Her richly made white dress stuck out in the room, especially considering he was wearing what he grabbed out of a bargain bin. Even after two weeks, it still struck him how beautiful she was, both her and her sister. They were absolutely stunning.

They were close to. He never saw one without the other for very long. They shared food, finished each other's sentences, wore similar clothing and communicated with looks. Melanie was the quieter one between them, often letting her sister be the front while she offered commentary. They even shared a personality.

A bitchy one.

Maybe it was just because he might as well be a peasant before the queens, but they looked down at him. Or any guy that didn't meet their ridiculously high standards for men; which meant that they looked down on every guy because dear lord, their standards were ridiculous. Girls too, now that he thought about it.

"Junior wants to speak to you," she said curtly before she stamped out of the room, a sway in her hips. Allen would deny that his eyes were glued to her rear as he followed along behind her. Seconds later, they stepped into the main room and Allen saw that it was packed. It should be expected, it was a Friday night after all, but since Allen spent his time in the dish pit during the busy hours, it was a sight to see.

Music blared, lights flashed and it seemed like everyone in the city was crammed on the dance floor to create a violent sea of moving colors. In the split second that he took in to admire the scene, Melanie plunged into the crowd, making them part like the red sea as she sauntered through. Allen swore to himself as he saw the back of her head vanish in a wall of moving bodies before he dove in.

It was a mad house. People jumped all over him, pushed him forward, backward and to the sides. Girls and Allen was sure at least one guy, grinned on him, trying to get him to dance. Under any other circumstance, Allen would have been glad to oblige them, but he didn't think it was a good idea to keep his boss waiting so he just pushed on through.

It was minutes before he made it out on the other side, and somewhere along the line, a drink was placed in his hand and streaks of makeup covered his jacket from forcing his way through. Allen looked down at himself in exasperation before he began walking up the stairs to Junior's office. When he reached the top of the stairs, he was greeted by the disapproving stares of the Malachite sisters and he suppressed a sigh.

"Ladies," he said, not making eye contact, else they would bite his head off. He still saw Melanie gestured for him to enter.

After Allen stepped inside and closed the door, the sounds of music and people screaming to talk to each other disappeared. He saw that Junior was sitting behind his desk, a glass of scotch in his hand as the other gestured for him to take a seat.

Allen did his best to ignore the rocket launcher that was next to the man.

"Allen! Ah, don't look so nervous, she's here just in case someone gets past the girls." Junior said, giving his weapon of choice a pat as Allen sat down, letting out a breath of relief.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Allen asked, wondering what it could be about.

"I did," Junior began, leaning his elbows on the table. Allen felt nervous at the move, "recently, an associate of mine has hired out a lot of my guys. Enough that I'm a little short-handed and having some difficulty hiring out muscle for my other associates." Junior continued and Allen felt nervous for every different reasons.

Junior was a criminal. A high-class one. He bought and sold information and the muscle that worked for him. Allen didn't know if he had his fingers in more pies than that, but so far that seemed to be the extent of it.

Putting that, and the direction this conversation was going along with all those pokes about his past and future, Allen could figure out why he was called up here.

"You already figured it out!" Junior said with a grin, seeing the surprise in Allen's eyes. "Are you interested? I can promise you that the pays better, at least twice as much as you make now. Maybe a hundred times as much depends on who hires you." Junior said, nodding his head at Allen. Or, to be more precise, his clothes. It almost pained him to see one of his employees in such shabby threads.

Allen paused and honestly considered the offer. While Junior wasn't a blue collar criminal, the same couldn't be said for all the other criminals out there. He could do all kinds of work; stealing, drug dealing, maybe even killing. Who knows.

He never considered becoming a criminal before, not until he sat in his seat and pondered the offer.

The thing was, Allen wasn't seeing a whole lot of reasons not to accept. He was already struggling to keep his head above water working full time with only basic bills to pay. The idea of working less but earning more really struck a cord in the teenager's chest. Plus, with a wider variety of jobs, the better chances of getting good jobs that not only paid big in money but Exp as well.

Even after two weeks, he still hadn't leveled up yet. The only quests he got that entire time was to work, which gave him so little EXP that he would have to work for another week before he finally hit level 2. Heck, he hadn't even manage to increase his stats by preforming some mundane task. What's more, it would offer him a chance to create more skills that could be useful. Gamer Mind already gave him a major edge, the biggest risk with newbie criminal was that panic, fear, or whatever that made you slip up and get caught.

Which lead him to the biggest con to becoming a criminal. Prison. Allen was young and he didn't fancy spending the rest of his teenage years, and possibly his adult years, behind bars.

However, as Allen mulled the offer over, weighing the pros and the cons, he came to a conclusion.

All he had to do to avoid going to prison was just to not get caught.

"Okay. Yeah, I'll do it...and based off that smile of yours, I'm guessing you already have a job lined up?" Allen asked, sounding amused at the megawatt smile Junior had. Little did he know, Junior had taken a liking to Allen. Not just for his mysterious background, but because he had the single most important talent that any good criminal needed.

Allen knew how to lie.

He kept a nugget of truth in his lies, kept them vague, and kept track of them. He knew how to misdirect, knew when to go along with a lie and he knew when and how he should lie. Allen wasn't the best at it but he would get better at it with time.

Like when he dangled that sham of a back story in front of him, Allen just shrugged his shoulders a few times and gave vague responses. Not once did he ever confirm his back story, simply letting him believe that it was the truth. He was giving himself plenty of room to work with, in case he ever slipped up or contradicted himself in the future. He also had an excellent poker face; it could use some improvement, but it was good enough that most wouldn't be able to tell what he was thinking unless they were paying attention.

While Junior still wanted to know the who, what, when, where and why of Allen Walker, he was now far more interested in the kids talent as an underling. If he proved himself, Junior would even consider making him his right hand. He was already a cut above most of the idiots that worked under him.

"Got it in one. It's a drug deal at the docks. Mr. Azure, my associate, is making a deal with one of the criminal families on Mistrel. Not sure which one, but a few birdies told me that it was the Cinnabar family. They're a minor criminal family in Mistrel, but they've been getting bigger as they get more involved in the drug trade over there, so it's not a real surprise that Azure wants to do business with them. His gang wants to do the same thing here, and they're real small. I'm not sure why he's hiring my guys, though; either he doesn't trust his gang enough not to fuck it up or they just aren't up to snuff." Junior began explaining and Allen nodded, making sure to memorize the important bits.

"You'll be one of his bodyguards during the deal, along with three others. If the deal goes south, you protect Mr. Azure with your life. However, if he's the one that starts the fight, you take a step back and leave him to his fate. If you can, secure the money but don't step on the family's toes, you'll get your fee either way."

Allen nodded, showing that he was following along. He felt nervousness bubbling up in his chest but he paid it no mind.

"The deals going down tomorrow, so I need an answer now. Are you in?"

 **A quest had been created!**

 **Protect Mr. Azure during the drug deal.**

 **Main objective- protect Mr. Azure from threats during the drug deal.**

 **Additional objectives:**

 **(hidden)**

 **(hidden)**

 **(hidden)**

 **Rewards: 5,000 lien. Handgun. Suit. 2,000 Exp. Increase trust with Junior.**

 **Failures: decreased trust with Junior, death or dismemberment.**

 **Refusals: greatly decrease trust with Junior.**

 **Do you accept?**

Allen's first instinct was to deny the quest. Basic game logic dictated that the bigger the reward, the bigger the challenge to earn it. However, his second instinct was to consider the numbers.

For a comparison, Allen made roughly a thousand lien working two weeks as a dishwasher. As for Exp, each dish washing quest gave him 25 Exp.

The difference was night and day. Based on numbers alone, this quest was going to be hundreds of times more difficult than being a dishwasher. That made sense, though; so, Allen wondered if that the only reason the numbers seemed so inflated was because he's only earned pennies so far.

Now what worried him were those hidden objectives. While they could be nothing special; it was a common game mechanic, one that meant bigger rewards if he managed to complete them, Allen was wary. He was slowly becoming a pessimist when it came to his luck and when coupled with those failure consequences...

The only reason Allen didn't just laugh the offer away was simply because of the refusal consequence. Allen liked Junior and him losing trust wouldn't just make his life difficult, it would be like a friend losing trust in him. It would also look really bad if he refused the first job that was offered him; it may ruin the opportunity.

Allen struggled for a moment before he let out a soft sigh. "Yeah, I'll do it," he said in a resigned tone. If it came right down to it, Allen would run if he thought he was going to die. Money, EXP, trust be damned; they weren't worth his life. However, he would give it a shot and hope that the job would go without a hitch and the hidden objectives would be something that he could handle; failing that, he would just fail them.

"Great!" Junior exclaimed before he reached into his desk drawer and pulled something out. When he handed it to Allen, he realized that it was a gun. Allen never had much interest in guns, so he used Observe on the weapon to figure out what it was.

 **9mm handgun.**

 **An unregistered gun.**

Allen resisted the urge to sigh at the lack of any information that he could actually use. Observe was a useful ability on paper, but until he leveled it up, it was just a useless sk-

 **Observe has leveled up!**

 **More detailed information is now available.**

Allen glared at the screen, though to Junior it looked like Allen was glaring at the handgun.

"I know it doesn't have much in the way of stopping power, but I'm guessing that you don't have much experience with guns?" Junior asked and Allen nodded absentmindedly, getting a feel for the weapon. It was heavier than he was expecting, so, out of curiosity and because he leveled the skill up, he used Observe again.

 **A 9mm handgun.**

 **An unregistered handgun. Holds up to 12 dust rounds.**

Allen frowned in thought. Dust was one of the things that this world had that his old one didn't. He didn't have much contact with it, he was too poor to buy most dust products and the few around the club looked like they could have run on batteries.

He tried to read up on it, but all of it went way over his head. Apparently it replaced gunpowder, while at the same time serving as the world's go-to energy source. It had to be mined, so Allen tried to think of it as very fancy coal, but the comparison didn't even begin to cover what dust was. A single dust crystal could power a car while a pinch of the same substance could be used for a bullet. Allen knew he would have to invest some points into intelligence to actually understand what dust was.

It also didn't help that he was freaking out about being in a different universe when he read about it.

"Thank you," Allen said, stuffing the gun into his jacket pocket. "I hope I don't have to use it," he added and Junior smiled widely in response. It was nice to see that one of his employees still wanted for a job to go over smoothly right after getting their first gun instead of wanting to use it. It happened far, far, far too rarely.

"But," Junior said when Allen made to stand up, thinking they were done. "That's not all." Junior leaned back and opened up one of his drawers, Allen heard some rummaging and his curiosity got the better of him so he stood on his tippy-toes. He caught a glimps of a drawer filled with...cell phones?

"Here," he said, "take that scroll. It should have my number on it in case you need it," he added and Allen looked at the contraption. He saw the seam and pulled it apart, he managed to keep the suprise off his face when he saw some kind of hologram that appeared in between the two thin rods that were attached to the thicker pieces.

"And I'v saved the best for last," Junior continued, stopping Allen from thinking about it, before he stood up. He walked to a coat rack and grabbed a closed cover before he handed it to Allen. Allen didn't even need to unzip it to know what was inside.

"I can't have one of my boys dressed in...that," Junior said, not even trying to hide his disgust for Allen's clothing. It seemed a bit much; it was just a used black jacket with some used jean. Perhaps it was because they weren't brand names...or maybe it was the holes? Holes were sylish, right?

Allen didn't really care, he was too busy unzipping the cover and admiring his first suit. He noticed the difference between his and all normal style for Junior's guys. His suit was the normal black with a red tie, but he had a white dress shirt instead. Like Juniors.

Allen glanced at Junior but the man only grinned in response.

"Go on, try it on." Junior urged, pointing to his personal bathroom. Allen swallowed his questions and walked to the bathroom, wasting no time to put the suit on.

The transformation was stunning. He barely looked like the same person. The midnight black suit fitted him perfectly, it was tight enough to outline his body but loose enough that it didn't impede his movement. The fabric was smooth and soft to the touch instead of the stiffness that Allen associated with suits. He couldn't even guess how much it cost to have a custom made suit of this quality.

Allen ran over his reflection in the full-length mirror that Junior kept in his bathroom. The only traits he recognized were his grayish blue eyes and his mop of black hair. He scrutinized every detail, committing the sight to memory before his eyes caught something out of place.

He leaned in and grabbed a long white-no. It was a gray hair. A light gray hair but a gray one nonetheless.

Allen frowned, 'guess I've been stressing too much lately,' he concluded. He heard about graying early, but he never thought it would happen to him. Then again, that was before he had become a game character after he was killed and transported to a different universe. Oh, and before he joined a criminal organization.

Allen let out a humorless chuckle. "My life's gotten weird," he said to himself before he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he stepped outside and made a show of his new appearance with the expression that asked for opinions.

Junior grinned before he pressed a button on his chair. Not even a second later, Melanie and Miltiades burst into the room, weapons at the ready. They scanned the room in an instant for threats, but their eyes were caught on Allen, who was still shocked by the door being all but kicked down.

There was a long silence; the Malachite sisters staring at him, Allen feeling uncomfortable, and Junior grinning like a fool.

"Hmph. Dressing him up nicely doesn't mean a thing if the contents are still garbage." Miltiades commented with a huff. Her sister nodded in agreement, turning her nose up at him.

"Ouch," Allen commented but was otherwise unaffected by the insult. He turned to Junior, "but she said I'm dressed up nicely. I feel all warm inside," he said in a stage whisper, cupping his hand over the side of his mouth. Junior laughed while Miltiades was doing her best to kill him with her glare.

"Now, if there's nothing else, I'm going to learn how to not shoot myself in the foot," Allen announced, getting an agreeing nod from Junior and him telling him about a shooting range not too far away. He strode to the exit of the room, his expensive black dress shoes clacking with confidence. Perhaps it was the suit going to his head, but when he passed both Melanie and Miltiades, who stepped to the same side to let him out, he gave them both a cheeky grin and a wink.

"Ladies," he said as he strode out of the room, ignoring their death glare.

…

 **Pistols Lvl 15 Exp: 65%** **Use of hand held guns of any caliber.**

'It's not bad, I guess.' Allen thought as he looked at the window. Unlike with dishwasher, as he leveled up pistols, he didn't receive any buffs. The gun felt more comfortable in his hand now and he was reasonably sure he wasn't going to shoot himself in the foot anymore due to incompetence. It still wasn't natural, a little awkward, a little stiff, but he could hit what he was aiming at if he took his time. Or at least close to it.

Either way, it would have to do because he was meeting the client right now.

After giving his appearance one last check, Allen opened the door to Juniors office. Junior was behind his desk, the Malachite sisters stood behind him, so, the man sitting in the chair must be the client.

 **-Azure-**

 **13**

 **Aspirer**

He had deeply tanned skin and curly black hair that he greased back. He wore a pinstripe suit with a, ironically, azure colored dress shirt. He seemed to be in his early thirties or late twenties. His brown eyes snapped to him as he entered before they narrowed.

"He's a child," Azure snapped at Junior. "I'm paying you for protection and my bodyguard is a child that can't even shave yet?" He demanded, sounding frustrated. While Allen was annoyed with the insults, he didn't let them bother him.

If he was setting up a drug deal then he would want a big, mean, scary looking dude instead of him too.

"Yes," Junior said simply and held up a hand when Azure went to snap at him. "Allen's young but he's one of our best. He'll protect you, if you need it, or die trying." Junior reassured and Allen had to stop a smile that threatened to break out on his face. If only he knew that this was his first job...

Azure looked to Allen with cynical eyes, who Allen met with a dull stare. After a few seconds of staring at each other, Azure apparently saw what he was looking for in his gaze.

"Very well. Let's be on our way," Azure said, shaking hands with Junior before he turned on his heel and walked out the room. Allen started to follow him out but Junior caught his attention as Azure left in a huff.

"Be careful. Something's fishy about this deal. I don't expect problems for you, but Azures acting off and I don't like it." Junior said and Allen thought as much.

"You think it's a setup?" He asked, hoping that he wouldn't run into any coppers. However, Junior shook his head.

"No, but I think this deal is a little more important than Azures letting on. I'm heard a few troubling rumors and with how he's acting..." Junior trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. He didn't need to say anything else because Allen caught the message, and it wasn't like he hadn't anticipated that there was more than meets the eye.

"Got it. I'll keep the safety off," Allen said with a nod before he exited the room. He was buffered with loud music, the weekend in full swing and Allen looked down at the crowd and sighed. He really wasn't looking for a repeat of yesterday.

However, surprising him, once he reached the bottom of the stairs when people caught sight of his suit they parted ways. They didn't look at him and didn't stop dancing, but they knew he was there and didn't want to piss him off. That brought a confident smirk on his face, basking in their respect, and fear, as he strode across the dance floor. Allen guessed it was true that clothes make the man.

Seconds later, he was outside and he looked for Azure. It took him a moment to spot him standing outside a completely ordinary car. He wouldn't have given it another look if it wasn't for Azure and three of Junior's guys standing outside of it. After they made eye contact, they started to get in the car and Allen spotted one major problem.

All seats were filled except for the driver seat.

'Ohhhhhh no...' Allen thought, nervousness bubbling in his chest. 'This is already off to a bad start.'

However, knowing better than to show his nervousness, Allen slid into the driver's seat and did his best to ignore the heart attack he was having. Seriously? They were letting him, a freakin kid, drive?! Sure, he was apparently more important than Azure's other bodyguards but this had bad idea written all over it!

'Okay...okay...the pedal on the right is gas...or is it dust...? Shit. Shit! Oh man, we are so gonna die.' Allen thought to himself, paling as he gripped the wheel with white knuckles. He considered just admitting that he didn't know how to drive, but Azure already had it out for him since he was young; it would break any confidence he had in him. So, as Azure buckled his seatbelt, Allen pressed the ignition and the car came to life.

Good start! He even managed to make it look like he knew what the button did.

Allen heard a beeping sound and his heart leapt to his throat. However, it was just the scroll activating it's GPS. The location was already set in it, so he didn't have to worry about that. Probably.

'Okay...how do I do this...?' Thankfully the car didn't look too different than what cars did in his world. 'If P is for park then D must be for drive...?' he figured he should give it a shot and, to his relief, the car began moving forward.

Through a special action, a skill had been created!

 **Driving Lvl 1 Exp: 2%-** **The ability to drive any class C vehicle.**

'GET OUT OF THE WAY!' Allen mentally screamed as a window popped up, blocking his vision as he slowly pressed the gas. He dismissed the window by disguising it as if he had to scratch his nose. However, because of nerves, his hand jerked back and he almost gave himself a black eye.

As they pulled onto the main street, following the GPS, Azure decided to speak, almost making Allen flinch.

"So, Mr..." Azure started, fishing for Allen's full name.

'Shut up! I'm trying to not die here,' were Allen's thoughts but what came out of his mouth was, "Walker. Allen Walker." God, he always wanted to say that. The suit, the car, the life; if only he were a spy instead of a low life criminal.

"Ah, Mr. Walker. Tell me, how much do you know about the deal? I trust Junior at least told you what to expect?" He asked and Allen let loose a slew of curses in his thoughts but answered him all the same.

"I know you're importing from Mistrel and from who, but Junior never said what," Allen responded and Azure looked pleased.

"I see." Good now you can shut- "Then let me tell you." Oh, you son of a b- "The families of Mistrel have created a compound that has some rather interesting properties. It increases focus, some might even say intelligence for a small amount of time." Azure began to explain and Allen nodded slowly, flicking on his turn signal and the information that driving had leveled up appeared in his mind.

He kept his eyes on his side mirrors, waiting for a chance to cross over. After a minute of waiting for some kind-hearted Samaritan, Allen just decided to go for it, else they wouldn't make it to the drug deal on time. He ended up cutting someone off and they made sure he knew what they thought of that.

'Sounds familiar,' Allen thought. He was never one for drugs, the thought of a substance controlling his life terrified him, but he had a few mates that would take 'helpers' before a big exam or for a project.

"I know a few who would pay to get their hands on that," Allen commented, making Azure nod.

"As do I. However, it's not available in Vale and the families of Mistrel are...reluctant to sell their product outside of their home country. I suppose they want to retain their monopoly on it in Mistrel, but I've managed to convince them to expand their markets. While they'll lose their grip, I've made up for it by buying the recipe for a very large sum of money along with a hundred pounds of the product. Do you follow, Mr. Walker?" Azure asked and Allen resisted the urge to sigh.

'Sooo...they're going for the cash up front instead of a long term investment. Makes sense, a secret can only stay a sec-DEAR GOD!' Allen jerked the wheel to the side to avoid a motor-biker that just decided that the rules of the road didn't apply to her. 'Oh, yeah, that'll get you home soo much faster you-' Allen trailed off as he realized he hadn't answered the question.

"I do."

"Excellent! Now, know this mister Walker, this is a grand opportunity. One that will make me a great deal of money. Should you fumble during the negotiations, I will...be upset." Azure said, his voice dropping and he laid a hand on Allen's shoulder, squeezing it threateningly. Allen could feel the man's intense gaze on him, but his never left the road.

"Understood."

…

Allen was never more relieved to step out of a car before in his life. It was awful, nerve racking and if it weren't for Gamer Mind, he would have panicked behind the wheel.

If it was just a peaceful drive, it would have been fine. He could have taken his time and learned. Instead, he learned how to drive in the middle of the night, on busy streets where everyone and their mother had a death wish, to a drug deal that was, surprise, surprise, more than it let on.

'Hah...I'm not getting paid enough for this.' Allen thought, thinking that if Junior knew the details of the deal then he would have sent much more experienced help. Nonetheless, he smoothed out his suit, rolled his shoulders, and gave the place a look around.

They were in one of the many warehouses on the docks. Most were abandoned over the course of time. As downtown Vale became more and more crime ridden, keeping a large storage of goods became an increasingly bad idea. Now only a handful stayed open and all of those were up town and privately owned.

Like all the others, it was dark inside. It would have been pitch black if it wasn't for the three work lights that were set up around a table in the center. They illuminated the table at different angles, making shadows overlap each other. All in all, it creeped Allen out, even more so when he noticed two gleams in the darkness.

However, as he stepped forward, falling behind Azure, he realized that the gleams were eyes. Eyes that belonged to a person who was standing at the edge of the darkness.

"Good evening," Azure said, striding forward to the table. "I trust that you have the product?" He asked and there was a moment of hesitation before the gleaming eyes stepped forward.

The first thing Allen noticed was the information hanging above her head.

 **Amaranth Cinnabar**

 **15**

 **Rising Star**

The second thing he noticed was the fact that she had bunny ears sticking out of her head.

Allen knew about faunus, it was a very different thing to see one. The woman was beautiful, and, like just about every member of the opposite sex so far, very far out of his league. Black hair, cute as a button nose, chocolate brown eyes and ruby red lips.

Out of curiosity, that was in absolutely no way driven by hormones, he used Observe on her.

 **Amaranth Cinnabar**

 **Level 15**

 **Title: Rising Star**

 **Hp: 1550 Ap: 500**

 **A faunus that works for the Cinnabar family in Mistrel. Though discriminated against for her heritage, she has climbed higher than most humans due to cunning and ruthlessness.**

'Well...that's not a good sign.' Allen thought. He shouldn't be surprised, she was a criminal after all, but it was a bit of a turn-off.

He was also glad that Observe was finally giving him some useful information, though he had no idea what Ap stood for. Especially when he had Mp.

The two men that stood behind her were both level 10, so, weaker but still out of his reach.

'Man...I'm soo under leveled for this,' Allen thought. If this deal went south, he was going to need Azure and Juniors goons to protect him instead of the other way around.

Allen turned to Azure and saw a muscle twitching in his jaw, though he didn't comment on the fact he was dealing with a faunus. So, apparently, he was a racist. That was...kinda shitty actually. He didn't think the guy was a stellar human being, and he already learned that he was a dick, but hating someone just because they were different than you left a bad taste in his mouth.

Allen was a firm believer for hating people for who they are, not what they are.

The faunus scanned all of them with blank eyes but Allen noticed that her gaze lingered on him. Probably because of his age.

"I'm assuming that you have the money?" She asked, tilting her head, her ears flopping slightly to give the appearance of innocents. It was adorable.

"Yes. You'll see it when I see the enhancers faunus." Azure said, somehow making the word faunus sound like a curse despite his tone remaining neutral.

'So...you tell me not to mess up the deal, but you're getting pissed because she's a bunny girl?' Allen thought, his hopes for easy money and Exp sinking. They weren't exactly high hopes, but it still hurt to see the chances of easy money and Exp shrivel before his very eyes.

"And you'll see the enhancers when I see the money. Let me remind you, Mr. Azure, you came to us. Not the other way around." Amaranth said, crossing her arms over her modest chest. Her dull gaze bore into Azures and Allen honestly thought the guy was going to have an aneurysm any second now. He clearly wasn't use to being talked down to by a faunus.

However, nonetheless, Azure reached into his coat pocket and Allen felt the tension suddenly thicken in the room. He could hear the other three bodyguards standing behind him shuffle and the ones behind Amaranth do the same. Allen made sure to stay still, but he was tensed to jump out of the way to avoid a hail of bullets.

It was unnecessary because instead of a gun, Azure pulled out a black card that Allen recognized. Lien worth was based on color instead of a number. White was for 5, yellow for 10, green for 20, blue for 50 and red for 100. Then there was black lien, which functioned a lot like a prepaid card. From what Allen knew, at least on the poverty level, credit cards didn't seem to exist.

He placed it on the table with a click and slide it towards the drug dealer. She took out a card reader from in between her breast and slide the card into the slot. Allen heard a beep that was shortly followed by a noise of disapproval. Allen saw Azure tense, curling his hands into a fist as he did his best to stay calm.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, a forced smile on his face.

"Yes, there is. This," she pulled the black card out of the slot before she sent Azure a sweet smile. "is not enough to purchase the enhancers." She said though she made no move to return the card.

Azure turned an angry red, the forced smile was still on his face but now his eyes screamed murder. "There's ten million lien on that card. The price we agreed upon." He said shortly, frustration clear in his tone despite his attempts to hide it.

Allen tensed up at the number, catching his jaw before it dropped. If it wasn't clear that he was out of his depth, then it was now. This was a multimillion lien drug deal; if Junior knew just how big this deal was then he wouldn't have let him come anywhere near it. He knew that Azure was trying to introduce a new drug into the country, but he did not expect that many zeros.

"Yes, that was the price." She admitted before she gave Azure an amused look, "right until we gave your gang a call." She said and Azure flinched badly at that. That wasn't promising.

"I wanted to know who I was dealing with; after all, we are in a dangerous line of business. Imagine my surprise when I'm told that you've practically cut all ties with your gang! After taking everything they had to buy the enhancers and promising them that the payoff would be worth it, you change the meeting place. I don't want to point fingers, but it sounds a lot like you plan to strike out on your own and leave your gang to whither away and die!" Amaranth said in a far too chipper voice, her smile growing wider as the anger slowly faded from Azure's face, replaced by a mask of fear.

"That-" Azure started, but Amaranth cut him off.

"I don't care Mr. Azure. You may strike out on your own, stick with your gang, do whatever that you wish. I don't care. You won't ever be a threat to the family, not with an ocean full of Grimm separating us, so you do whatever you want in Vale." She continued before she leaned forward, giving Allen a nice view of her cleavage, that he most certainly didn't look at.

"I. Don't. Care...but, I do care how much you're willing to pay for the enhancers. If you want them badly enough to screw over your gang, empty your bank accounts and promise a couple of very big favors then I'm guessing you'd be willing to say...give the clothes off your back for them? Maybe do a little dance?" She said, a smile full of teeth on her face. Genuine amusement in her eyes as she watched Azure like a hawk.

She wasn't the only one. Allen watched the man with baited breath, hoping that he didn't do anything stupid. He was honestly confused why Amaranth was provoking him, but he figured it had something to do with the 'sea of Grimm' that she mentioned. If Azure's old gang didn't have a long reach then the Cinnabar family didn't have to worry about retaliation when the deal was done. Amaranth knew that, so she took it upon herself to torment a racist before selling the drugs and returning home.

Seeing Azure hesitate, Amaranth continued. "You could always decide that the price is too much...but I imagine it would be rather awkward running back to your gang with your tail tucked in between your legs after robbing them blind." That was the final nail in the coffin.

Allen could hear Azure grinding his teeth, his face twisted in a snarl. His eyes darted between her and the black lien that she had in her hand and Allen could see the cogs turning in his mind. Then he glanced at Allen, his thoughts very clear despite his attempts to hide them.

Allen realized that he had a choice. He didn't know what Junior would want him to do in a scenario when the man he was protecting was being provoked into conflict, nor did he know how much reach the Cinnabar family has or even Azure's apparently old gang had. Junior said that they were both small, but Allen had nothing to compare that to. He didn't know, he wasn't informed, he wasn't told. There were no orders for what was happening.

So, Allen made a choice.

"Whoever draws a gun, or provokes the other to drawing a gun, dies." Allen heard himself say. His heart was pounding in his chest he feared that the others could hear it. Cold sweat dripped down his back and every instinct he had was telling him to apologize and pretend like he didn't say anything when he felt everyone's eyes on him.

He met Amaranth's curious gaze while keeping an eye on Azure's reaction. The woman pouted like he had just ruined her fun, while Azure managed to look thankful and furious at the same time. There was a long tense silence that fell over the warehouse and Allen did his best to not let it get to him. He kept still, didn't let his nervousness, his fear, show as he maintained eye contact.

Then it was broken.

"Hmph! Fine; just ruin my fun why don't you," she said, turning her head sharply to the side in a pout. Allen didn't let the childish action fool him, her description was still fresh in his mind. He knew that it was just a trick to catch him off guard.

However, Allen did feel the tension dissipate from everyone in the building. All of them were too professional to show it, but Allen knew.

"Now, the enhancers and the recipe," Azure said, taking control of the conversation again and getting them back to point. His voice had gone back to a neutral tone, despite how close he came with brutal humiliation. Amaranth let out a huff before she reached in between her breast and pulled out a small tablet like thing.

'Wha...?' Allen thought, confused at how she managed to do that. Did cleavage work like his inventory? Because it seemed like she would need a pocket dimension in between her breasts to store all of that. Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember seeing that when he...didn't check out her cleavage. Because that would be rude.

"This is the recipe," she said before she placed the tablet on the table. She made sure to put it on her side, barely an inch away from the edge, so Azure would have to lean over the table to grab it. However, the man stayed where he was and just glared at the woman.

She pouted again, clearly unhappy that Azure wasn't taking the bait before she nodded at the table. A second later a package was thrown onto the table.

It was a suram wrap brick filled with pills that were blue and red at the ends with a yellow stripe in the middle. Out of curiosity, Allen used Observe on it.

 **One pound package of 'Focus' pills.**

Allen stared at the drugs for a long moment before he let out a mental sigh. He would wonder how exactly he got roped into introducing a new drug into a country via a multimillion lien drug deal, but he knew exactly how. He took that job yesterday, knowing that he was in over his head and was still somehow surprised that he was in over his head.

If only greed wasn't his sin.

He felt the familiar feeling of guilt in his chest but he ignored it as Azure picked up the package and inspected it. He felt a bit bad for what he was a part of, his dad was friends with a lot of cops and whenever they came over they talked about some new drug that was sweeping the streets and leaving a bunch of dead kids in its wake. Allen didn't think he was killing those that would eventually OD on focus; the drug would get in the country one way or the other.

Allen just felt a bit sad because he could feel his old life beginning to slowly slip from his fingers. What was replacing it, Allen couldn't honestly say that he liked.

It was dead silent in the warehouse as Azure inspected the package and it was for that reason that Allen heard the faint sound of metal scraping against metal behind him. He blinked, not sure he had actually heard anything before he heard it again.

'Inventory,' Allen summoned the pocket dimension as he unclasped his hands. Then, while doing his best to not make it obvious, he looked behind him.

Just in time to see the giant metal doors be thrown open.

Time seemed to slow as the door was thrown to the side and people ran into the now dimly lite warehouse. He could see their black jackets with blue rags with a square on it tied around their biceps. And, more importantly, he saw the guns in their hands as they ran in.

One thought entered his mind.

One thought summed up the situation.

'Shit.'

 **A huge thank you to everyone that reviewed, followed and favorited this story! Sorry for taking so long to get the next chapter out; I was mapping out the story and this chapter became a monster without me noticing. I had to cut in half, or it would be around 20 thousand words. Now I know where I want it to go, I'll try to get a chapter out every two weeks or so.**


	3. At the top of a downward spiral pt 2

**Bit of a warning, this chapter contains a fair bit of cursing.**

"GET DOWN!" Allen screamed out before he dove at Azure, knocking him down as a hail of bullets tore through the air above him. Over the sounds of gunfire, Allen heard screams of pain as some of the henchmen went down with a solid thump. The bullets destroyed the lights that surrounded the table in a shower of sparks before plunging them into darkness.

Allen's warning managed to save some. Amaranth managed to react instantly and flipped the table over and used it as a shield to save herself but no one else. They only thing Allen had was their car that was parked at an angle, giving them some protecting but not anywhere near as much as he would like.

Allen glanced behind him and saw that one of Junior's guys was laying on the ground, two slowly growing dark patches on his suit. Allen cursed to himself as he tore his eyes away from the first real dead body he had ever seen. The sight was burned in his memory.

He felt his heart pound in his chest as he made eye contact with the two remaining bodyguards. A silent message passed between them before they took out their guns and began firing blindly at the few men that stood in the entrance as they took cover behind a few flimsy barrels not far from the car. The sounds of gunfire filled his ears but he did his best to ignore it as he looked down at the bewildered and terrified-looking man underneath him.

"We have to get out of here!" Allen yelled over the gunfire, that seemed so impossibly loud and got a shaky nod from Azure. He helped the man up while keeping low as he ran towards the car. He heard the sounds of squealing tires and he didn't need to look to know that the Cinnabar family was peeling out. Not when he heard the sound of rending metal as they drove through the door.

Allen plunged his hand into his inventory and pulled out his gun, remembering that he had one, as he fired blindly as he ran towards the car. He thought he hit someone because he heard a pained shout.

 **You have leveled up! You have leveled up!**

Two windows popped up without any warning, startling Allen. He froze for the briefest second, not expecting them in the slightest. In that brief second, a bullet slammed into his thigh.

 **Through endurance, your Vitality went up by 1**

Allen fell to the ground, Azure leaving him behind as he made the last few steps to the back seat of the car. He shouted in pain, grasping his upper thigh, feeling the blood slowly soaking his pants and clinched his eyes shut for a moment, silently cursing the man who shot him. Then he cursed himself for taking this stupid job before he let out another pained grunt as he forced himself up.

If stayed still now then he would die. If he stopped or hesitated, then he would die.

He would die _again_.

That single bullet knocked his health down to below half, so he couldn't afford to take another hit. He limped towards the car, ignoring the pain in his leg, and threw himself behind the driver's wheel. The last two of Juniors guys took that as the sign to stop giving covering fire and sprinted to the car. Allen watched as bullets sparked around them as they ran to the car in his rear view mirror. He had already started the car and he just needed them to get in before he could leave, despite Azure's screams to the contrary.

However, Allen watched as a bullet ripped through one of their legs, just like him. The man tripped, his leg no longer having the strength to support him, and he fell on his face. The other didn't turn around and try to help him up, even as he screamed in pain and for help. It was selfish, but the action paid off because bullets tore through the wounded man, silencing him.

A second later, the other bodyguard ripped the door open and dove in. He didn't even have time to slam the door before Allen stomped on the gas and the car lurched forward in response. Bullets bounced off the thankfully bulletproof glass as he floored it out of the warehouse. They shot at them until Allen turned sharply and searched for an exit away from the docks.

"Who were those guys?!" Allen demanded as he pushed sixty as he spotted a gaping hole in the fence line that the Cinnabar family drove through. He glanced at his rear view mirror and his stomach dropped when he saw cars following him. Two of them but Allen could see men scrambling to give chase.

"The Blue Squares," Azure answered, spitting the name out like a curse. "My old gang. How did they find me?!" He shouted to himself, sounding afraid and panicked. Despite his willingness to screw over his old gang, he seemed very unprepared to actually have to deal with them after the fact.

"What an awful name," Allen commented to himself. Really, the blue squares? What's next, the red circles? Yellow triangles? The name was so bad, uncreative and utterly boring that Allen would have laughed at it if he wasn't currently fleeing for his life.

"That's not important now! We need to get out of here!" Azure screamed as Allen drove through the opening before turning sharply. He felt the car begin to tip over before it settled back down, along with his heart that nearly jumped out of his throat. He ignored the information that driving had leveled up due to reckless, but successful driving.

"I'm on it," Allen said, more to himself than Azure. He glanced behind him again and saw two sets of headlights behind him. He didn't know how many were in each car, but Allen was going to go ahead and assume that he was heavily out numbered.

He flew through a red light, catching air over the small bump in the center of the road. The car came down and Allen ignored his light stomach as he thought furiously how to lose his tail. He wasn't an experienced driver, very far from it. However, Driving was rapidly leveling up with how recklessly he was driving; the skill was already nearing the twenties.

He considered to just keep driving like a bloody lunatic to level the skill up until he was good enough to actually lose them, maybe he would before he got good enough, but the idea was quickly tossed out. Not only would that put his life at serious risk, but a lot of other peoples. He was murdering the speed limit; if he got in a wreck then the odds of walking away from it were nonexistent.

Allen was broken out of his thoughts when Azure suddenly screamed, nearly giving him a heart attack and almost killing them all when he glanced at the rear view mirror before looking back at the road in time to dodge a law abiding car. Driving leveled up yet again...

"That fucking animal! I swear to fucking Oum, I will murder that rabbit-eared bitch! That fucking cu-" Azure screamed and raged, he beat his fists on the armrest of his door and his seat. He kicked the floor as he cursed about the faunus drug dealer. Allen would have loved to watch the man throw a tantrum if he wasn't driving at suicidal speeds.

Thankfully, he was cut off when Allen had to swerve out of the way of a car as he sped through another red light. Azure's head bounced off the window and Allen took the lapse of cursing to ask what was wrong.

"My money! That thieving slut of a fucking rabbit took my fucking money!" He screeched at Allen as if he should know.

Allen blinked in surprise. Now that he thought about it, she never gave back the black card and Allen highly doubted that she would drop ten million lien in panic. That and Azure was never given the recipe because it was still on her side of the table. Odds were that she had it, or they left it at the docks.

"Find her! Find her now and get my money!" Azure urged, as he reached from the back seat and grabbed Allen's arm. His fingers dug in as he trembled in rage and at this close, Allen could hear the man's heavy and uneven breathing.

It didn't take Allen a second to point out the immediate problem.

"I can't! I don't know where she went, and you might have noticed, we're already in the middle of something!" Allen shot back, and, as if to prove the point, Allen heard gunshots followed by bullets smacking into the rear window. Allen gritted his teeth as he swerved in between cars, all of them going painfully slow. However, the hail of bullets didn't let up.

Most weren't doing the glass too much damage, but some did and they made a spiderweb crack that was slowly growing bigger as a bullet hit near it. It wouldn't take long for the entire thing to shatter and then it would only be a matter of time before they got a lucky shot.

"Distract them," Allen ordered the last bodyguard in the car. They needed to take pressure off the window. The man nodded, even though Allen wasn't looking at him, and a second later the window went down and he leaned out of it. Allen heard him fire off a few shots and the bullets pelting the rear window slowed.

"I have a tracker on the card!" Azure shouted over the gunfire. He grabbed the scroll and pressed a few buttons; the Gps sprung up with a destination a couple hundred feet away. However, it had to recalibrate the quickest road to it every couple of seconds because how fast he was driving and how fast Amaranth was probably going.

Allen gritted his teeth as he glared at the road before him. He could barely hear himself think in between the curses from Azure and the gunfire. Azure wanted him to get his money, and in truth, Allen understood. He really did. The idea of someone taking such a huge amount of money caused him physical pain since he now knew the anguish of poverty.

However, it wasn't his job to track down missing money. He was getting paid to protect Azure, and he was feeling like he bit off more than he could chew already.

"No. You hired us to protect you, which we are. I'm not going to risk our lives for your money." Allen refused in a flat, but resolute tone. No matter what Azure said to him, he wouldn't be talked into greater danger for someone else, especially someone he didn't like.

Then Allen felt something pressed against his head. Something cold and felt a lot like metal.

"You kill me and we all die," he informed, sounding surprisingly calm. He was, despite there being a gun to his head and people shooting at him. His head was clear and all those messy emotions were being pushed bellow the surface.

"Doesn't matter to me! Do you know what I had to do to get that much money?! How many debts I have?! How many fucking promises I made to people?! Listen here you fucking brat; I would rather die here and now in some crash then live without that money. The things those people will do to me if I can't pay up...I would rather die. I would rather blow your fucking brains out and die!" Azure screeched, pressing the gun further against Allen's head.

Allen was really, really, really starting to regret taking this job.

He didn't even need to look at Azure to know he was serious. The man sounded crazed and furious; a very dangerous combination.

"Okay. We'll get your money," Allen bit out, not having any choice but to agree. He gritted his teeth when he didn't feel the pressure against his head lessen. He glanced at the bodyguard but saw that he wouldn't be much help. He was keeping their tails busy and he couldn't hear their exchange over gunfire.

"Are you really going to keep that against my head?" He asked as he turned a sharply to a new street. Cars honked their horns but the sound was drowned out by gunfire and squealing tires.

Azure just clicked the safety off his gun, "get me my money," he commanded.

'Things just got complicated,' Allen thought to himself. Well, more complicated.

"Where are they?" He asked as he swerved into oncoming traffic, earning a blast from an eighteen wheelers horn before he rejoined his lane. The two cars that followed them weren't deterred in the slightest. One made the trip with him, though it stayed in oncoming traffic for a bit longer, while the other fell back and gave him some room to breath.

However, as the car rejoined his lane, he slammed into Allen's side. Allen struggled to correct the car, having not expected the hit at such high speeds, and did so at the cost of clipping side mirror, losing it. Allen muttered a curse underneath his breath before he glanced at the car next to him. The passenger seat rolled down his window and he stuck an arm out of it.

Allen jerked in surprise when bullets suddenly smacked against his window, making him swerve widely. He managed to correct himself with a jerk of the wheel, but he was forced to drive on the side walk. He blared his horn, trying to give the pedestrians a little warning before he flattened them.

"That whore is on Bakers street-no, turn right here to get to Huntsman- you fucking twat! I told you to turn right!" Azure screamed, somehow managing to ignore the chaos around him as he screamed his instructions at Allen. His gun didn't move from Allen's head, even through the rough rocking of the car as it went back on the street, where it belonged.

"I'm a little busy!" Allen shouted back as their gunman rolled down the other back window and began firing at the car next to them. Azure lowered his gun, hiding the fact he was pointing it at Allen and moved out of the way. Allen nearly shouted in joy as he saw the gunman that unloaded into them get hit twice before he slumped forward, making him fall out of the car and onto the road. The corpse went under the car, nearly making it tip over before it was reduced to a stain that they left behind.

"I don't give a shit! Get my money! They're on Cross avenue now-no, wait, now they're on section street." Azure rambled, focusing on the small screen before him as if it were a holy relic that gave directions to his god.

Allen listened to Azure ramble before he quickly became frustrated. By the time Azure managed to say the name of a street, Amaranth was already on a different one as he began to give directions. Allen wondered if the she was going warp speed because she seemed to be on a different street every other second.

"What I wouldn't do for a map," Allen said to himself as he tuned out Azure's rambles. He wouldn't get anything out of them.

Then, without any warning, a screen popped up.

"Holy fuuuu-!" Allen screamed, eyes going wide as he resisted the urge to swerve out of the way. Azure didn't even look up while the remaining bodyguard just fired away with his seemingly endless supply of bullets.

Allen blinked before he moved the screen out of his line of sight with a wave of his hand. He couldn't give it his full attention, but Allen saw that it was a map. Like a real mini-map. Allen shouldn't be so surprised that he had one, it was a staple for any game, but he still was.

As he drove like a mad man, Allen noticed that his car was indicated with a blue arrow while directly beside him was a red arrow. Normal stuff, but Allen saw something that held his attention for longer than a second.

Far ahead of them on the mini-map, Allen saw a green arrow with three red arrows around it.

He tore his eyes off the map, just in time to jerk out of the way of gangsters trying to ram into him again. He managed to lessen the blow, but the car still jerked to the side when they made contact. Allen cursed loudly as he turned the wheel, pushing back against the car. They kept at it for a long minute before Allen yanked his wheel to the side and turned down a street without any warning.

He was going to let out a shout of triumph but it was cut short when he saw the red arrow of the second tail pull up behind him. With growing frustration, he pressed the gas down and sped ahead while trying to keep an eye on the mini-map to keep track of the Cinnabar family. However, he was doing a poor job of it because driving required all of his attention and Azure was useless when it came to giving directions.

As Allen racked his brain for a solution, he remembered that he had leveled up, twice. That meant stat points. Stat points meant improvement. Improvement meant better abilities. Abilities make things easier. Making things easier meant that he wouldn't wrap the car around a lamppost as he looked at an invisible map.

"Status window," Allen said aloud, not even caring if the others heard.

 **Allen Walker**

 **Title: The Gamer**

 **Health: 150 (68) hp. Mana: 100**

 **Level: 3 Exp: 85%**

 **Strength 10**

 **Vitality 10**

 **Dexterity 10**

 **Intelligence 11**

 **Wisdom 10**

 **Luck 10**

 **Points to spend: 8**

Without a moment's hesitation, Allen poured all eight of his stat points into his intelligence. After all, what was intelligence?

It's the ability to acquire and apply information for a task. To be able to process information at higher rates, store it with greater efficiency, and apply it for maximum benefit.

In this case, he would use his new found intelligence to memorize the map and pick out the fastest route to catch up with them with a glance. Who knows, maybe it would help him out after that as well.

Allen felt a sharp pain in his forehead. His brain throbbed and he nearly shouted out in pain at the unexpected feeling and had to resist clenching his eyes shut as they became sensitive to light. It felt like he was being stabbed in the head. He toughed through it for a long moment before the intense pain began to lessen before it faded into a light headache.

 **When under pressure, you've made a wise choice. plus 1 to Wisdom.**

Allen dissmissed the window as soon as it appeared.

After that, Allen took a moment to, well, think. He was curious, despite the situation, if he was actually smarter. He thought he was; everything was just...a little sharper, a little clearer. At least he thought it was; the change was so little that he honestly doubted that he would have noticed it if it weren't for the fact his intelligence was so low and he had invested so many points into it at the same time.

'Guess there's only one way to find out,' Allen figured before he looked at his mini-map for a long second. He didn't memorize it, but he didn't notice that he...understood it better. When he read the names of the street the Cinnabar family was heading to, he didn't instantly forget it and he even kept a vague idea of the route he would need to take to get there.

With his new found intelligence, he noticed something as he glanced periodically at the mini-map. It took some time, but he grew more and more certain of it as he checked on the little green arrow.

The Cinnabar family was heading to the highway. It was indirect, probably because of the three red arrows that seemed to circle the green arrow, but they were certainly heading that way.

With one hand, that shook lightly from both nerves and pure adrenaline, he pressed the road just in front of the highway. A purple way point sprung up in response and a purple road connected his arrow with the way point.

He had to quickly grab the wheel again and yank it to the side just in time to avoid crashing into a car that suddenly whipped into his lane. He didn't waste any time yanking the wheel back and slamming into the vehicle because the mini-map marked the sudden addition to the chase with red. The two vehicles ground against each other, fighting over the lane before Allen was slammed in the rear by his original purser.

Allen rocked forward but managed to keep control of the car. He cursed in frustration because he was getting pinned. With two cars breathing down his neck on the narrow streets of the city, it was going to incredibly difficult for him to get to the highway. If the Cinnabar family was anything to go by, then it wasn't as easy to shake off a tail as they made it looked in the movies, and Amaranth probably had years of experience with car chases.

He roughly had two hours.

His driving skill was leveling up rapidly, even as the demand for Exp grew. The more recklessly he drove, the greater risks, the bigger the gains. It was currently hovering near thirty, but it was steadily going up.

'This is nowhere near as easy as they make it look like in James Bond,' Allen thought sourly as he was rear ended again. He maintained control as the car that was pushing against him tried to drive him into a lamppost.

Then Allen had a thought. A dangerous thought. One he would have tossed out for being insane if it weren't for the fact he thought he might just be able to pull it off.

Without any warning, Allen slammed on the breaks, making the car behind him slam into him. The car rocked violently but Allen kept it straight when, more importantly, the car that ground against him sailed forward. However, as the car began to pass, Allen yanked the wheel to the side and slammed the front of his car into the edge of the cars fender.

Like Allen thought, the back end of the car was carried with his momentum while the front end still tried to go straight. The result was the car, going as such speeds, flipped. It seemed to hover in the air for just a second as the front wheels and the back were at odds before they lost their traction. Then time resumed and the car slammed into the ground.

Allen wasn't done.

He rode the momentum that the car behind him provided as it smashed into him to complete his turn. His car's end whipped to the side, making him spin out of control for a second. His tires squealed as they tried to gain some traction, and the little that they did saved them from death when Allen slammed into a parked car. The car rocked violently, but they were otherwise unharmed.

The car that crashed into him wasn't so lucky. With Allen out of the way and no warning to react, it continued forward. Right into the car that was flipping uncontrollably. The two cars smacked into one another with the sound of shattering glass and rending metal. It sounded heavy and violent as both cars crashed and rolled, carried by their momentum with no control.

"That was awesome!" He shouted out, smacking the steering wheel in excitement after his vehicle settled. If his blood wasn't moving during the chase, then it certainly was now as he looked at the piles of wreckage. He could barely believe that it worked! It was his favorite tactic when he raced his mates in Need For Speed.

Then he noticed Azure giving him a look. Then he noticed the gun that Azure still had in his hand, which was still pointed in his general direction.

Allen cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed, and calmed down. He glanced at his mini-map and saw something that puzzled him greatly.

Instead of just the three red arrows that were chasing the Cinnabar family, and the one he had managed to loose, he was seeing more.

A lot more.

That were sprinkled throughout the map, some in clumps while others roamed the streets by themselves. Most weren't too close by, but the sheer number of the red arrows made Allen break out in a cold sweat. Allen even saw a few flashing lights that Allen guessed represented the police.

Why were there suddenly so many?! Not even ten minutes ago he only had to deal with the ones that followed him from the docks. Was this connected to him somehow? Was his luck so terrible that every gang in the bloody city just decided to have a field day?!

He didn't know what was going on. He had no way of finding out. Staring at the invisible screen and listening to distant sirens and gunshots wasn't going to help him. He needed to hurry up, get the money and get back to the Club before the streets became any more dangerous.

It didn't take him long to reach the entrance of the highway. He had to dodge through a maze of red and flashing arrows to get here, but they seemed far interested in tearing each other apart than bothering him. Allen saw plenty of gang vs cop, gang vs gang and in one case, gang vs cop and gang, but he saw little in the way of citizens. They probably fled indoors to stay out of this storm.

Allen blasted down the highway; it was a straight line so he pressed the pedal to the metal. Thanks to the fact he wasn't being pestered by three different cars, Allen managed to catch up with the Cinnabar family.

Judging by the look of their car, it was easy to see that the driver was struggling with her pursuers. The once black car was now a mess of other colors and large scratch marks. The windows were cracked and dents littered the body of the vehicle. The cars that surrounded it were much in the same condition, telling the tale of a messy fight for the road.

Allen decided to join that fight.

He sped towards the cars ramming into each other until he was even with them. Then he yanked the wheel to the side and smacked into one of the vehicles. It didn't have the intended effect, instead of being knocked to the side and off the road, the car met his slam at the last second to lessen the impact. Both cars shook, Allen was prepared for it so he wasn't jostled too much, not nearly enough to stop him from trying to push the other car off the road.

As the two cars fought over the lane, the others took notice. The Cinnabar family seemed to think he was an ally, mostly because he wasn't targeting them, and left him alone. The others, however, decided to take him out of the race before he could begin. One of them broke off from harassing Amaranth and slowed down enough that he fell behind. Unlike before, stopping him from doing the same maneuver, the car didn't run into him from behind in favor of pulling up beside Allen.

Allen barely had time to brace himself as he was slammed in the side, being pinned between the two cars. He struggled against both of them, trying to break free from their grip but found that he couldn't. Seeing that he couldn't turn to the sides, he decided to slam on the brakes.

Allen lurched forward but was caught against his seat belt as his car tried to come to a sudden halt. It wasn't as instant as Allen would have liked, but he did manage to break free of the grip with a loud scraping noise that reminded him of nails on a chalk board. Then, as fast as he could, he goosed it and rear ended the one that went out of his way to pinning him.

Because it took longer for Allen to slip out of the grip when he braked, it gave the men behind the wheels a second to respond. Both of them stepped on the brakes, however, when the one that Allen rear ended pumped his brakes Allen's momentum went through him. The back end of the car began to turn sideways, but the man behind the wheel managed to catch himself before his car flipped.

Allen tsked to himself, unhappy with the result as he yanked his wheel to the side and slammed into the one that managed to slow down without interruption. He managed to knock the car to the side a fair bit, enough for him to slip out of the grip that they tried to ensnare him in again.

'This is getting annoying,' Allen thought to himself with growing frustration. He wanted this job to end already and these guys were getting in the way. He needed them out of the game so he could focus on taking out the Cinnabar family and getting the money so his head would get a tunnel in it.

He had a few idea; all of them ranged from bad to laughably stupid. The best of them was him pulling some Need For Speed bullshit out of his arse again and the worst involved him breaking the laws of physics. The rest was a blend of those two.

Allen paused for a moment before he let out a very long sigh. "Fuck it. I'm the Gamer," he said to himself.

He was a video game character.

His life was a game.

Why not drive like he was in a driving game? It worked once already.

Allen grabbed the emergency brake and stomped on the brakes as he yanked the wheel around. The car responded; the smell of burnt rubber penetrated the car as the back wheels spun in a tight 180, leaving a black streak that marked their path. Now that he was facing the other way, Allen threw the car in reverse and slammed the gas just in time for one of the cars to crash into him.

He was thrown forward but was caught by his seat belt. Azure let out a curse but was otherwise fine. The bodyguard, however, was thrown forward from the back seat into the front; at least he was most of the way, he managed to catch the seat before he fully left the back seat. Allen heard him let out a groan but he ignored him in favor of rolling down his window.

Allen reached into his inventory and pulled out his pistol before he stuck it out of the window and aimed it at the car that was pushing him. He squeezed the trigger and felt the growing familiar kick of the gun, and, to his relief, a bullet hole appeared in the windshield.

He had hoped that the cars would just be generic ones instead of his car, which was modified with the thought of car chases in mind.

 **You have leveled up!**

The screen appeared after Allen squeezed off a few shots where he thought the driver should be on the car. Apparently he got him, because not a second after Allen saw the screen, the car took a sudden turn and slammed into the car next to him.

In a split second, Allen aimed his gun at the second car and emptied his gun into it. A screen didn't pop up letting him know that he shot anyone, but it seemed to distract the driver enough that when the first car slammed into, he wasn't prepared for it. It hit him right behind the back wheel with enough force that the end was thrown to the side. He couldn't correct in time and the car flipped.

Allen didn't watch it, nor did he comment. Instead, he threw it into drive and whipped his car around before speeding forward. He had to quickly swerve out of the way though when he saw a car spinning out of control before smashing against the...force field? Was that a force field? Those exist?! Either way, Allen saw the blue tinted air shimmer red as the car smacked into it. With the pressure off him, Allen took the chance to glance at his mini-map, to see if there were any exits coming up that the Cinnabar family might use.

Instead, he found something that was far more important.

On the map, Allen saw red, white and blue...and a lot of it. At a glance, Allen could tell that they blocked off the highway a couple hundred feet in front of them, but he couldn't see how many arrows there were due to the fact they were clumped up and flashing.

"Oh no," Allen said to himself, tearing his eyes away from the unwanted sight. Right when he thought this job couldn't be any more of a cluster fuck, the police show up. The whole bloody department by the looks of it.

"What-oh," Azure demanded, peeking from the back seat. However, he was cut short when he saw flashing lights far too close for his liking. They were distant but the flashing lights could be seen from where they were.

"Yeah, 'oh'." Allen repeated, "we need to turn around-" he started to say before Azure shoved his gun against Allen's head so hard he thought he would bruise.

"Not without my money," the man said and Allen resisted the urge to snap at the man. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was his recent successes in driving, but having a gun pressed against his head was having less and less of an effect on him. In fact, it was beginning to annoy him greatly.

He glanced at the bodyguard that sat next to him and him staring at the rear view mirror. At first, he thought he was just trying to avoid getting involved, but then Allen noticed that he was rapidly paling.

Allen glanced at his mini-map and felt like screaming.

Behind him were red arrows. A lot of them.

"Oh, fuck me!" Allen cursed, torn being terrified or being furious. This job just kept getting worse and worse and bloody _worse_ by the second. By the end of it, he would have half the bloody nation after him, assuming that he wasn't run off the road by one of the arseholes behind him or arrested by the coppers in front of him.

Allen was literately pinned between two armies.

An army of cops on one end and an army of gangsters that apparently have the ability to appear from thin air! One side wanted to throw him in a cell and throw away the key, while the other wanted to kill him. Probably slowly and painfully considering that he took out a couple of their guys. What were the _bloody_ odds that they would pick this bloody bridge when he was _bleedin_ on it?! Was he the target? If he was, then it was bloody _overkill!_

Even with his theoretical ability to heal any wound, Allen did not want to put it to the test here and now.

With no where to go, Allen stopped butchering the speed limit and slowed to a trot. He was trying to buy himself some time to think, to find some path that would lead him through this madness. Some way to stop being a metaphorical bone between two very big dogs armed to the teeth.

However, Allen wasn't seeing one, even with is increased intelligence. He just didn't see a way that he could win this. Even with his new found intelligence, he couldn't think of a reason this was happening in the first place.

'I leveled up again, I could put more into intelligence...' Allen thought to himself. However, would that be enough? Six points wasn't a whole lot and it wouldn't mean as much now that his intelligence stat was higher. While he could tell that he was a little bit...sharper, he was also sharp enough to know that it just wouldn't be enough.

So, he decided against it. Better use those six points when they could do the most.

"Oum...it's like every gang in Vales on the bridge!" Azure shouted, sounding stunned and confused with a dash of fear. "That...why?! It's a lot of money but not worth...this!" Azure gestured wildly and Allen thought he had a point.

The police he could understand. However, the sheer number of cars behind him was just overwhelming. It was like Azure said, it was like every gang in Vale grabbed anything that had a set of wheels and piled into it. Sure, ten million lien was a huge sum of money and the drugs could make a couple times that number if used wisely, but this was just too much.

Allen watched the mini-map, looking for a clue and a way out. His mini-map confirmed that every red arrow in the area was on the bridge. He saw that, while unified from where he was sitting, there was a fair amount of infighting. Arrows smashed into arrows, a few arrows of flashing red, white and blue seemed to be mixed in, almost like they were trying to lead the stampede of criminals. There were still a fair few outside of the bridge, but even those seemed like they were heading this way along with flashing arrows.

"What do we do?" Allen heard someone asked, and was surprised that it was the bodyguard. He was looking at Allen with a pale face and a worried expression. Allen wanted to laugh at it because he wanted to ask the same question.

However, he knew that he needed to keep calm. If he panicked now then any slim chance they had was gone. Time for thinking was dwindling and the time to act was nearing.

Allen looked over at the Cinnabar family and saw that she was in a similar position. she had stopped not too far ahead of him, no doubt racking her brains for an escape route. He bit his lip in thought before he turned to answer the question.

"Something stupid," he answered honestly before he pressed on the gas and slowly moved forward. Just slow enough to not be considered a threat but fast enough with the sense of urgency.

He rolled down his window and a second later, Amaranth did the same as he pulled up next to her.

The adorable, sweet look on her face was gone. Instead, she looked at Allen that just screamed, 'if I don't like what I hear I'm ripping your head off and spitting down your neck.' It must be the stress getting to her.

"Truce," Allen offered, glancing at the approaching gangs. The police stopped a couple hundred or so feet away. Instead of pulling forward and arresting them, or opening fire, they seemed to be preparing for the battle that was to come. Cops were getting out of their cars and getting behind cover. The gangs still had some ways to go, but it wouldn't take long before this thing kicked off.

"You didn't set this up?" She demanded and Allen saw her do the same as him. In that moment, Azure went to say something, probably about his money, but Allen silenced him with a glance in the rear view mirror. Whatever Azure saw in his eyes made him snap his jaw with a click.

"No," he answered bluntly. He couldn't afford anything more when they were so short on time.

Amaranth looked at him for a long second before she nodded.

"Any ideas?" She asked and Allen suppressed the surge of disappointment in his chest. He had hoped that she would have a better idea of what to do in this situation. He didn't let it show.

Allen paused for a long moment, he felt like his heart was pounding a hundred times a second. It really felt like at any moment now, it was just going to burst from his chest. However, Allen scanned the highway for something.

Currently, they were parked near the center of the highway. The highway was wide, four lanes for each direction; so he had some room to work with. Judging by the view, they were high up. Around a hundred feet, give or take.

What caught Allen's attention was the giant blue force field thing. The memory of it flashing red when the car bounced off it replayed in his mind. An idea formed.

"How much can those take?" Allen asked, looking back at Amaranth. She was looking at him with a blank expression but Allen could see what she thought in her eyes. The look that just screamed, 'you're mental.'

What she said was, "They're made for glancing crashes. They can't handle a direct one," She answered in a flat tone. She didn't have to say it, but Allen knew that she didn't think very highly of his plan.

Not that he blamed her. It was a bad one. Allen would even go as far as to say it was a horrible plan.

What else could they do, though? They were flanked by every cop in the country and every gang and their mother on the other. Allen was still half convinced that he was the target for all of this, so the odds of them going through one side without being bothered were rather slim. They couldn't go through them and sitting still and waiting for the bloodbath to be over actually sounded worse than driving off a bridge and hoping for survival.

Their only hope, as faint as it was, was to get off the bridge. Unfortunately for them, their only route was a hundred foot drop.

"Pull to the other side. We'll need all the speed we can get," Allen ordered before he followed through with was he said. He gripped the wheel with white knuckles, he honestly doubted that he could have let go of the wheel if he tried. His blood was nothing but pure adrenaline and even his attempts at deep and even breaths did nothing to sooth his nerves that felt like they were about to snap at any second.

Nonetheless, Allen came to a stop at the edge of the opposite wall he was going to slam into. He took a deep breath before he looked down, trying to calm himself. What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack.

His pants leg was soaked with blood. The wet stain extended down his leg, all the way to his knee and now that he was aware of it, he could feel wetness on his calf. With a jerk, he slammed a hand down on his leg with a smack.

To his surprise, not that he was complaining, his leg didn't flare up in pain. It felt like he had just smacked his leg with a stupid amount of force. So, his leg was healed. It just bled a lot before it did. It made sense, the thighs were just a web of important arteries so the bullet probably nicked one.

'Was there a bleeding status effect?' Allen wondered to himself. He honestly couldn't recall, the past hour was just a blur of motion and emotions. He did remember something that would help him a great deal for what was about to happen.

He summoned his status window with a thought and put the stat points into vitality. The six points managed to put him at two hundred but there was still the issue of him only having 68 health. Lucky for Allen, this was the one thing he had managed to prepare himself for.

Not caring in the slightest, Allen opened his inventory and reached his hand into it. The other members in the car were shocked, to say the least, when Allen made a ham sandwich appear out of thin air. Then how he managed to make it disappear with two bites. Then again when he pulled out a whole cheese wheel and began shoving it in his mouth with reckless abandon.

"What...?" Azure said from the back seat, not sure what to make of the sight. Was he trying to kill himself with food? Never before had he ever seen someone eat an entire cheese wheel in seconds and still have room for cookies and milk. Where on Remnant did those apples come from? Who eats the core and the stem?!

Allen ignored him as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He checked his health bar and saw it was resting at two hundred. He almost smiled at the sight but it was cut off before it could begin when he saw the gangsters making the final stretch.

"My final meal," Allen answered the unspoken question that both men had. That seemed to cast an uneasy tension in the car as Allen pressed the brakes and the gas at the same time. The tires spun, making a thick white smoke come off the tires. Allen heard them screech as the engine hummed with effort, trying to push forward. Beside him, the Cinnabar family was doing the same. He heard gun shots, and he saw that Amaranth was shooting the force field, trying to get some cracks in it before they ran into it.

Allen took in a slow breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he snapped them open while taking his foot off the brake. The car lurched forward, the tires straining to keep contact with asphalt. When they did, Allen found himself forced into his seat from the momentum of the car.

He kept his eyes glued on the speedometer. He watched it shoot up from 0 to 10 to 20 and so on. In seconds, he was in the sixties. When he was nearing the seventies, Allen looked up to see the blue force field and saw that he was so very close.

He closed his eyes, out of nerves, reflex or fear. Allen didn't know. What he did know was that the moment he shut his eyes, his world became a violent swirl of screeching metal and broken glass.

Allen gripped the wheel so tight that his fingers left indention's in the leather. He had to. The world around him was doing everything that it could to toss him around like a rag doll; he felt vertigo overcome him as the world violently spun in every direction. He would have vomited if he wasn't so tense.

Allen thought they were falling. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed like a safe bet considering that his stomach was trying to jump out his throat along with his heart.

Then, without any warning, it came to a stop.

Allen slammed his head into the steering wheel, shattering his nose before he felt something hit him in the chest so hard it felt like he was kicked by a horse. He slammed back into his seat, only to be thrown forward again for the most violent and terrifying roller coaster ride of his life wasn't quite over yet.

The car flipped, still carried by some momentum. The thrashing became worse, managing to rip one of his arms off the steering wheel but he managed to grab it blindly again. It was a task, though; it felt like someone was making a great effort to pull the loose appendage off of him.

The car rolled a couple more times before it finally began to slow. The final one, it seemed to hesitate, wondering if it should continue before it began to tip and settled on three wheels. The fourth was lost at some point during the crash.

Allen sat in the car, his eyes still squeezed shut as his ears rung. Now that it was gone, the sounds of squeal of rending metal seemed so impossibly loud. Vaguely he could hear someone talking, but it sounded muffled; like they were far away or talking through a pillow.

Despite the traumatizing experience, Allen knew that he didn't have time to waste. He forced his eyes open, ignoring the sharp pain he felt in his brain. Everything was a hazy white for a moment but color soon returned and he saw the wreckage of the car.

At a glance, Allen thought it was a miracle that he had survived. Broken glass was everywhere, the front of the car was mangled beyond recognition, his door was caved in and he could see that the passenger door was missing entirely, the roof was bent inward, almost hitting Allen's head. The once unnotable car was reduced to a mess of edges and carnage.

Then he noticed a window in front of him.

 **Status effect: concussion blocked**

'How useful,' Allen thought before he heard someone say, "is anybody dead?" It took him a moment but he realized that he was the one that asked.

"Almost," the bodyguard next to him groan out. He held a hand against his bleeding forehead and nursed an injured arm. Broken by the looks of that unnatural bump that strained against the sleeve of his suit.

When there wasn't a reply from Azure, Allen managed to twist in his seat to check on the man he was supposed to be protecting. He saw the man leaning forward, his chin pressed against his chest as blood dripped from his broken nose and a massive gash on his forehead. For a brief moment, Allen thought that he was dead but dismissed the thought. If Azure was dead, then he would have gotten a notification that he had failed the quest.

"We need to get out of here," Allen said as he struggled to unbuckle his seat belt. The task seemed impossibly difficult for him for a few seconds before he heard a satisfying click and the constricting, but life saving, piece of fabric loosened. He moved forward but winced in pain, it was fading but Allen was sure that his torso was nothing but a giant bruise. With that done, he began pushing on his door but it wouldn't budge. He ended up having to leave the mangled wreck of a car through the passenger seat after the bodyguard got out.

"Get Azure, I'll get the money," Allen ordered and the man nodded, looking dazed. While he began pulling on the back seat door, Allen walked over to the car that wasn't too far away.

It was a grizzly sight. The car was just as mangled as their own, if not worse because it was further ahead. The one major difference was the fact that it landed upside down. The windows were smashed into pieces, so Allen could see the blood soaked hair hanging out of the window.

His eyes were drawn to something that was laying not too far away from the wreck. A torn duffel bag with pills laying around it scattered from the force. Allen limped, that quickly became a walk as the pain rapidly faded, his way to it and saw that it was filled with 'focus' pills.

Allen looked down at it for a second before he knelt down and picked the bag up. It weighed about fifty pounds, so the other bag was laying around somewhere. He found it much closer to the Cinnabar wreck.

'After all this bullshit...' Allen thought to himself as he shoved the entire bag of pills into his inventory. How many times had he almost died? Over a drugs and money? Looking down at them laying in the dirt, ruined, Allen had to resist screaming in frustration.

It was infuriating; for the first time, he had been in real life and death danger. When he died before, there wasn't any warning. There was no struggle or a fight. He had been murdered before he even realized what happened to him.

Now? How many close calls did he have? How many ways could he have died if things had played a little different? Those gambles he made with his life had paid off, but that last one was so close that it honestly amazed him that he lived through it.

All of that for a bunch of pills and money that some jackass wanted.

He would have. He would have screamed, stomped his feet and thrown a tantrum that was worthy of legends if it wasn't for the fact that he was just so exhaustion. The adrenaline high was wearing off and was replaced with exhaustion. It made his bones ache and he couldn't even muster the strength to be angry anymore.

He just wanted to go home and sleep for the next month.

Allen tsked to himself before he resumed walking towards the car. When he arrived, he knelt down to the driver seat. Like he thought he would, he saw Amaranth hanging upside down, still strapped in her seat with her hair and arms dangling uselessly. Blood dripped from her forehead, making a pool of the crimson liquid.

"Gross," Allen said as he reached for the black card that was half covered in blood. Not far from it, Allen saw the tablet and grabbed that as well. He wiped the card on his pants leg before shoving it into his inventory, making that number of lien spin upwards so high that Allen would have drooled if he had time for it.

As he did, he heard gunfire erupt above them. Allen looked up at the bridge they had fallen off of. He saw bullets pinging off the force field, but he couldn't see any of the action because of the angle.

However, based on sound alone, it was like World War Three was going on up there.

After a moment of listening to gunfire and the occasional scream, Allen looked back at Amaranth. He reached out and pressed a finger against her neck, knowing what he was looking for but not where to find it, before he felt a slow beat.

So, she was alive. That was...surprising. No one had died in this little gamble of his. Maybe those ten points in luck managed to pull through for him after all?

With a small huff, Allen began pulling at the wedged door. It took a moment, but Allen felt it tug his way. He pulled harder and the entire door came off, the twisted metal holding it to the car snapping from bending too far. He stumbled back before tossing the door to the side and grabbing Amaranth.

He unclicked her seat belt and caught her when gravity kicked in and she fell downwards. As she fell, he pulled her towards him, saving her head from a smack on broken glass and possibly making any injury she had much worse.

Slowly he drug her out of the car until she was completely out of it. Then he let out a sigh; he could see a dark purple, almost black, bruise on her lightly tanned flesh thanks to her low cut dress. No matter how he looked at it, carrying her was going to be a pain for both of them.

He considered a piggy back ride, but having her rest on her stomach might cause problems. Allen knew absolutely nothing about medicine, or how to treat wounds like these. For all he knew, she could have serious internal bleeding or something and he was just making it worse with his attempts at helping. Just because she looked a little bloodied didn't mean that everything was fine.

In the end, he decided on bridal style. It seemed like it would be the easiest on her injuries.

After he scooped her up in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, he turned back to the bodyguard.

Allen almost laughed at the sight. Azure was thrown over the man's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Why are you bringing her?" The bodyguard asked as they slowly moved away from the wrecks and away from the battle that was raging above them.

That was a good question and Allen already knew his answer.

"Leaving someone to die..." he trailed off, memories of being stabbed to death surfaced to the front of his mind. The pain, the fear, the questions. How he slowly bled out onto the cobblestone as snow covered him. He recalled it so clearly that it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

"Dying is such a sad...and lonely thing. No one should die alone," Allen said in a soft tone. That was what hurt the most about his murder. Not the thousands of questions that he had, not knowing that he probably wouldn't ever get to see his friends or family again. What hurt the most was how...alone he felt as he died.

How lonely and cold.

…

Junior watched the insanity on the news, his mind a whirlwind. One question was on his mind, one question that he wanted to be answered more than any other.

How?

Junior didn't know how it happened. One moment he was sitting in his chair with a glass of scotch and the next his phone is blowing up with, what felt like, everyone he had ever met in his life. All of them wanted the same thing, though for different reasons.

They wanted him to confirm information. The kicker was, they were all for different things.

Guns, drugs, money; you name it. Apparently they all heard from a friend that someone from Mistrel was in Vale delivering some very precious cargo. Junior had a sinking suspicion that this 'friend' that everyone had was the same 'friend.'

When he couldn't confirm it, mostly because he was sure that the same cargo that they were talking about was the cargo that Azure was buying, they hung up with a huff. That had given Junior a second to clear his head and try to figure out what was going on, but he couldn't even begin when one of his guys all but kicked down the door while hollering that he needed to see something.

It was only because he was right that Junior didn't give him a smack.

Car chases were going on in Vale. Dozens of them. Police were struggling to keep up as every gang in Vale mobilized to get this 'cargo' that the Cinnabar family had. Gun fights erupted in the streets, wrecks were happening left and right, right up until a mass text went out. Junior knew because his scroll vibrated with the information that every asshole with a car and a gun got.

A live time GPS of the cargo.

After that, the gangs all went to the same place. They fought all the way, but that slowed when they realized that the cops were thinning out. That was because they were setting up a trap on the bridge in the center of Vale. It was a perfect spot, there was no exit and it was in an unpopulated area.

Junior watched both the tv and the GPS, wondering what was going on and who was behind it. Then he sees two incredible things right after another.

On the tv, he see's one of his cars. The car that he lent Azure for the protection deal. Right next to it was the Cinnabar family. Before Junior could even think why Azure was on the bridge, trapped between an anvil and a hammer, both cars shoot forward and slam into the force field, breaking it due to their high speeds and direct impact.

The signal for the cargo disappeared about a minute or so later. Gone. Junior thought it might have been destroyed, after all, it was a high drop, but it was a minute later. Far too long after the crash for it to suddenly break.

So, that meant that someone found it and destroyed the tracking device.

Junior had a feeling he knew exactly who that was.

Now, however, he was currently watching a bird-eye view of the largest gang against police battle in history. It was a blood bath; both sides were pulling out all the stops. Explosions, bullets, fire, gas; it was a war zone and the body count was climbing at a frightening pace.

'The military is going to step in soon,' Junior thought, narrowing his eyes at the screen. The police didn't have enough fire power or the numbers to keep up with the gangs. The only reasons that they managed to survive so far was because they had an organized defensive position and that the gangs were surrounded. Then, after that, they would have to B-line to the border. He already got word that every hunter and huntress in Vale was already heading out to stop the Grimm that were drawn to the fear and suffering.

As if they were summoned by the thought, Junior watched as Vale military appeared in the skies as he ignored the blonde reporter on the screen. He watched as the military threw down tear gas and flash-bangs as if they were confetti. The smoke was so thick that Junior could barely see what was going on the bridge.

After they used their stores, the soldier threw down rope before sliding down. They disappeared one by one into the cloud of smoke and Junior let out a sigh before he turned off the tv. He already knew it was over, he didn't need to see it.

This was...interesting. Odds were that most of the people that Junior did business with were on that bridge, or at least most of the members of their respective gangs. So, as of right now, just about every gang in Vale was either dead or in custody. Most of the two-bit gangs were gone, only the other major players would still be in operation but he saw numerous gang signs for them, so they would take a hit from this as well.

That was a huge blow. A major one. That was years of favors and contacts going down the drain. Favors and contacts that he spent most of his adult life forging and maintaining. That was years of credibility gone; all those that could vouch for him were either dead or in the slammer.

However...however...however, this was an opportunity.

Junior ran one of the largest gangs in Vale already. The only members that he invested in this cluster fuck were Allen and a couple of other goons. So, as of right now, Junior was the biggest gang and the power vacuum for the criminal world was going to absolutely massive. Even those that weren't on the bridge, Junior could just take their corner on the streets. He had the manpower, money and now the opportunity.

This was an opportunity to control Vales underworld.

An opportunity that he planned to seize.

"Hmmm...I wonder if Walkers dead?" Miltiades Malachite wondered to herself, not sounding displeased with the prospect.

"That was a rather long fall...I bet he's as flat as a pancake now," Melanie added as she inspected her nails. She tsked to herself when she saw that there was a scratch on the nail gloss. He would have been fine with aura, but the fool didn't think to have it unlocked. A hundred feet was nothing for those that had aura. Some hunters would even call it fun.

"How unfortunate for him," Miltiades agreed with a nod. The Malachite sisters reactions to Allen's death were very much like their ones to spilled milk. There was no point crying about it. Junior would eventually find some other fool to entertain him eventually and Allen Walker would be but a memory after a few weeks.

"It's rude to kill people off like that," a voice said from behind them. Miltiades and Melanie jumped at the voice, swinging around with weapons at the ready while Junior just grinned at the tv before he glanced over his shoulder.

Allen was a wreck. His suit was unrecognizable, stained with blood and dirt. He was covered in blood, most of it was dry now but Junior was alarmed by the amount of it on his pants leg. He was missing a shoe and his hair was a mess of dry blood, sweat and dirt. He smelled like burnt rubber and smoke.

Then Junior noticed the faunus in his arms and Junior instantly recognized her. That was the face of the Cinnabar family's drug dealer. Their best and brightest.

"What...?" Junior started, turning around to ask a dozen questions. Idly he noted that Azure was still passed out in the arms of one of his guys. He didn't see the others, though...

"She needs help," Allen said, cutting him off. "She's pretty beat up but it could be worse than it looks," he continued, gesturing to the unconscious woman in his arms.

A beat passed before Junior nodded, "DEW!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the empty club. A moment later a man with shaggy grass green hair came scrambling onto the main floor from the basement. His glasses had spirals on them and they seemed to be a little too big for the man.

Junior didn't have to say anything else. Dew saw the injuries that all of them had, but his focus was on the woman in Allen's arms. In a whirlwind of green and white, Allen was stunned to see that Amaranth suddenly disappeared from his arms while Azure vanished as well. He turned around, his arms still acting like he was holding her, just in time to see the tail end of a medical hurricane.

"Dew will look after her, all of you. He's the best at what he does," Junior reassured. Dew had once been a renowned doctor and surgeon, a prodigy like few others. He saved countless lives, more than Junior could count. However, all that went away when he was caught trying to get internal organs from the black market for a cancer patient that was going to die before they found a match.

Allen nodded, looking relieved...no...sleepy. His eye's dropped and his eyes became glassy. He swayed lightly and Junior thought Allen was about to fall asleep where he stood.

"What happened out there?" Junior demanded, hoping to at least get some answers before Allen was out for the count. He could interrogate his other guy after he was done with Allen.

"We...ahh...long story short; shit happened and now we have this stuff," Allen started before he reached into his inventory and grabbed the package of 'focus.' He was exhausted. So exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open and when he did close them, he was going to sleep for weeks.

He was so past the point of caring that Junior would see him make two fifty pounds of drugs appear out of thin air. Not when one of his guys had already seen the trick.

Junior's jaw dropped as he caught the bags of 'focus.' "Allen-" he started but he was cut off by Allen again, who was hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. He had a date with the sandman.

"They're pills that boost your intelligence or something. Dunno, I forgot. Also," he tossed the black lien and tablet over at his boss, who struggled to catch them with his full hands. "there's ten million lien on the card. The tablet should have the recipe for the drugs. Don't tell Azure that I gave that to you, though. He's a bellend," Allen said in a tired voice before he punctuated his words with a loud yawn.

"T-ten million! You! What?!" Junior stammered out, genuinely shocked at the turn of events. He thought it might be possible that Allen got his hands on the cargo, which turned out to be an interesting new drug, but to top it all off he also grabbed the money it was bought with and the recipe to make more? If Allen was cleaner, Junior would have kissed him.

Allen just yawned again, "ask the other guy. I'm beat," he dismissed Junior's questions as he gestured to the man standing next to him. Without waiting for permission, Allen turned on his heel and marched towards the closest comfortable looking surface. He was in luck and spotted a lovely looking couch in the rest area.

"Night," he said, oblivious to the looks he was receiving from everyone in the room. He closed his eyes and fell forward, as his face bounced against the couch, several windows popped up.

 **Congratulations! Quest Competed!**

 **Protect Mr. Azure during the drug deal.**

 **Main objective- protect Mr. Azure from threats during the drug deal.**

 **Additional objectives:**

 **Get 'Driving' to level thirty by the end of quest.**

 **Reward: Title Driver: 2x Exp for driving all class vehicles**

 **Prevent the drug deal from failing.**

 **Reward: skill charm/intimidation**

 **Get the drugs and money.**

 **Reward: ten million lien, 100 pounds of 'Focus,'**

 **Secret Hidden Objective: Save Amaranth Cinnabar.**

 **Rewards: Greatly increase trust with Amaranth. Greatly Increase trust with Cinnabar family.**

 **Secret Hidden Objective: Give Junior the drugs and money.**

 **Reward: Greatly increase trust with Junior, Miltiades, and Melanie. (dependent on amount was given), one-third of what is given, 14 suits, and gun of choice.**

 **Quest Rewards: 3,333,333 million lien. 5,000 Exp. Increase trust with Junior.**

 **You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up! You have leveled up!**

Allen didn't see any of it. He was asleep before he hit the couch.

 **There's something I want to explain; I couldn't fit in the story without breaking the scene so I'll do it here.**

 **Physics work differently in Remnant. No big surprise; realism was thrown out the window when Ruby used the recoil from her scythe/sniper rifle to propel herself up a mountain while dragging a giant bird with her. You know this, I know this.**

 **Allen doesn't.**

 **As far as he knows, things like that are impossible. Like they physically can not happen. So, what he thinks is a risky maneuver has a much higher chance of success on Remnant than it would on Earth.**

 **Slowly he'll learn, but for now, he remains ignorant.**

 **Now that's out of the way, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Tell me what you think; what I did right and what I did wrong. Also please point out any spelling mistakes you find, I proof read but you don't notice some mistakes after you read the same chapter a dozen times.**


	4. The Lying Liar

**I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for the wait. Life stuff happened; Mom had to get surgery and we didn't have great insurance so I had to get another full-time job in addition to my other full-time job while going to school. So, for the past few months, I've been working sixteen hours a day on average with another four hours of classes on top of that. Writing just had to be put on hold.**

 **I should be able to update more regularly now, though. Got promoted at my first full-time job, so I'm making enough money that I could go part-time with my second job, which opened a lot more time for me to write.**

 **With my excuses out of the way, onto the chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

Allen got up at an unholy hour. After everything, after a multimillion lien drug deal, after a- no, after multiple car chases- after being shot at, then actually being shot, after falling over a hundred feet...after all of it, he still got up at eight o'clock.

Sure, he felt perfectly refreshed. All of his injuries were healed, his health bar was full, his mind was clear of exhaustion. He was perfectly fine.

It was just the principle of it! After the craziest, wildest night of your life, you're entitled to a sleep in. Even if it's just for an hour. You got to sleep in. It was one of the unspoken laws of the universes. All of them.

But his stupid ability was forcing him to break that law. He couldn't get more than six hours of sleep because that was all his body technically needed.

Which was dumb. Sleeping was one of his favorite things to do, and on lazy days, it was the only thing he did if he had any say in it.

Allen grunted as he went to turn on his side but stopped when he felt his face stick to the fabric of the couch. A pang of panic entered his chest, confused why, but he quickly figured it out. He peeled his face off the couch and grimaced when he saw the large bloodstain where his head had been. Tentatively he prodded his head, searching for the wounds but all he felt was crusty hair and skin.

Suddenly feeling incredibly gross, Allen forced himself up, making the conscious decision to break the sacred law, in favor of finding a shower and hosing himself down.

The only problem was, the only shower that he knew of was the one in Juniors office.

A problem that could be easily solved by asking Junior to use it.

With his mind made up, he began walking across the empty dance floor to Juniors office. It was then that he noticed how empty The Club was. Even at it's slowest, there was always someone on the floor either dancing or simply walking across it. Now, however, it was completely deserted. Even the ever constant music was off so his footsteps echoed throughout the building.

It was creeping him out. Where was everyone?

Nevertheless, Allen arrived at Junior's office a few moments later. Neither Melanie or Miltiades was standing at the door, so odds were Junior wasn't in his office. Allen pursed his lips and reached into his pocket before he cursed silently to himself as he pulled out the shattered remnants of his scroll. He had put in his pocket out of habit instead of his inventory.

Allen let out a sigh as he placed the shattered scroll into his inventory much too late. It was just so much like a phone that he did it without thinking. He really needed to break those habits.

He knocked at the door and after a few seconds of silence, Allen knew that Junior wasn't in. So that left him with a bit of a delima; he could try to find Junior while looking like a train wreck, or he could just take a shower now and let him know later.

'Better to ask for forgiveness than permission,' Allen mused to himself before he opened the door with the key hidden behind a lamp. The room was empty like he thought, and Allen didn't waste any time getting to the shower. Now that he was so close, he was becoming more and more aware of the filth that covered him. He was unbuttoning his shirt and kicking off his shoes-er, shoe, trying and failing to not being grossed out by how they stuck to him as he entered the shower and turned the water to scalding hot.

Allen let out a groan of relief as the water washed over him. The dirt, sweat, and grease was coming off him easily enough, turning the water at his feet a disgusting murky black color, but the dried blood was sticking to him like glue. He had to scratch at it to get it off.

After was seemed like the longest, yet shortest, cleaning session of his life, Allen topped it all of by grabbing a fruity smelling shampoo and body wash and cleaned himself again. After washing it all off, Allen propped himself against the wall beneath the faucet and just let the water run over him. It was an old habit that his dad gave him plenty of grief over, but Allen always did it when he had a lot on his mind.

His mind began to wander, reflecting over all that happened last night. To his surprise, he recalled most of it easily enough. Allen figured it would have been just a mess of blurs and noise, but no, he recalled just about everything that happened last night.

However, the one thing he didn't recall was seeing a quest completed screen. Did it time out or something?

"Status window," Allen said with a frown. If he completed the quest then-

Allen's jaw dropped when the screen popped into existence in front of him. He blinked, then again, then again and another time just to be sure. When what he saw didn't change, he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands because it clearly had to be a trick from water getting in them.

No matter what he did, the screen didn't change.

 **Allen Walker**

 **Title: The Gamer**

 **Health: 703. Mana: 645**

 **Level: 13 Exp: 33%**

 **Strength 10**

 **Vitality 15**

 **Dexterity 10**

 **Intelligence 19**

 **Wisdom 11**

 **Luck 10**

 **Points to spend: 36**

"Uhhh...," Allen gaped at his new level, feeling stunned, but when he thought about it for a long moment, he realized that it made some sense. Last night had been a wild ride and he leveled up a few times just before he completed the quest.

Quickly moving past the initial shock, Allen stared down at the points he had to spend. He got four for each level, which seemed like a pathetic amount but he did only have six stats so he guessed it was a balancing thing. Which was lame.

Pushing his hair back out of his face, he thought about where he should put the points. Intelligence was what saved his bacon last night. If he hadn't thought of how to get off the bridge he would have died. If he hadn't used it to memorize his mini-map, then Azure would have killed him or he would have crashed when looking at it.

But there was also Vitality, the other stat that saved him. If he hadn't leveled up twice before he was shot just before the car chase began, then he would be dead. No ifs or buts. A single gunshot wound to the leg would have killed him instantly.

It was almost funny in a way. Allen thought himself as indirectly invincible thanks to his ability to heal theoretically anything, but at level 1 he had been more fragile than a normal human.

What about the other stats, though? Without a doubt, he saw that they were useful. Strength went without saying but Wisdom had its own appeal. Intelligence gave him more options and allowed him to understand those options. Wisdom let him know which of those options was the best one.

Dexterity went hand in hand with Strength. If-when Allen got into another fight, being able to get out of the way of a hit sounded infinitely more appealing than tanking it. With a high Strength stat, then the damage he would do would skyrocket.

Then there was Luck...hmmm...maybe he should make good on his promise and invest everything in Luck because he clearly needed it.

'What would I do if I was playing a game?' He asked himself but frowned when he came to the answer. He didn't have a lot of money growing up, so he, or rather his dad, couldn't afford a game system. The games that he did play were over at his friend's house he never managed to get too far into an RPG because very few of them were multiplayer and watching someone play wasn't much fun.

In fact, most of Allen's knowledge about video games was from watching lets plays. He couldn't afford the game himself, so he just watched someone who could play it. And Allen was one of those arseholes in the comments pointing out that the player missed some loot or something.

Meaning, that Allen had very little experience actually making characters and the characters that he did make rarely left newb territory.

'That's a problem,' Allen realized. This wasn't just some game character that he could remake or redistribute his stats. This was him. This was Allen Walker. He was deciding what he would be, choosing how he would grow in ways no other had done before.

It was a very empowering experience but Allen was terrified he was going to screw himself over.

'Should I just put one in each stat?' He wondered to himself, thinking it couldn't be too bad being well rounded. That was the goal in life right? Be a little good at everything?

However, Allen decided against it. Stat points were too few and they were only going to get harder to get as time passed.

'Okay. Do I want to be a rogue, warrior or...a mage? Can I learn magic?!' Allen asked himself, feeling excited at the prospect. If he had Mp, then that meant magic right? Like fireballs and raising the dead? That sounded awesome! He would have to invest into his Intelligence and Wisdom stats to give him more Mp and quicker replenishment rate.

His fantasy of felling armies with grand feats of magic was cut short when he realized that he didn't know if magic was real. While there was certainly the possibility that he could use it, it became an issue of how he would learn it. Buy fantasy books and try to recreate the spells? Start throwing wads of paper while screaming 'Firebolt?'

Allen would keep the lane open, but until he had something more concrete, he would put his points into something that he knew would help him immediately.

"I'm a criminal," Allen said aloud. A statement. A fact.

So, shouldn't he invest his stats into something that would help him with that? A Rouge build? High dexterity, Intelligence, and Luck?

But what if he decided to go legit? Like a doctor or something? What if he found himself in a situation where Dexterity wasn't worth anything and he needed to dish out damage?

Allen let out a groan. This was just so frustrating!

Then Allen recalled what Wisdom did. Biting his lip, Allen's finger hovered over the plus sign for a moment before he took a breath to steady himself. Then he pressed it four times in rapid succession.

And nothing happened.

Allen waited, staring at the stat screen like he would suddenly have the answer.

He didn't and it was infuriating.

Allen was about to look for some kind of reset button, determined to get his points back, but he paused. How exactly would he know he was wiser? It wasn't like intelligence or any other physical stat that he could feel. Wisdom was more mental than anything. Did he feel more mature? A quick internal reflection told him that, no, he was not more mature. As a matter of fact, he was rather immature.

Pursing his lips, he ran over his options again. He examined each one, weighted the pros and the cons, considered each stat and their merits. Allen thought for minutes, long enough that his body began to prune up underneath the water that was slowly beginning to run out of hot water.

Then, he made a decision. He tapped plus signs rapidly, deciding his build for the 'game' he was in.

 **Allen Walker**

 **Title: The Gamer**

 **Health: 717. Mana: 745**

 **Level: 13 Exp: 33%**

 **Strength 15**

 **Vitality 15**

 **Dexterity 25**

 **Intelligence 20**

 **Wisdom 15**

 **Luck 10**

 **Points to spend: 15**

Allen nearly fell to his knees from the sudden assault of pain. His head throbbed while his body contracted painfully; muscles expanding while his joints stretched. The pain lasted for a long moment as his body adjusted to their new limits but slowly it faded and Allen opened his eyes and tried to spot the differences.

There wasn't much, but a quick look at his bicep and he saw that it was more defined than it had been before, maybe a little bigger. Allen looked down at his abs and saw it was much the same, more definition over increased size. Allen stretched, his joints popping again and tried to test his new dexterity a little. He couldn't do much due to lack of room, but he saw that he could finally touch his toes without bending his knees! With ease too. A vast improvement from before.

Allen decided to prioritize Dexterity along with Intelligence. Strength would lag behind, but he would keep it up to dish out extra damage when he needed to. Luck was left alone for now because he wasn't sure how exactly that stat worked.

Would he just start finding money on the ground left and right? Games of chance would swing his way? That was the traditional way that Allen viewed luck.

However, in a game, it meant something very different. Rare drops being the chief among them but on the other side of the coin, it was dangerous. Encounters with rare monsters and quests. While it sounded appealing in its own way, the events of last night were fresh in Allen's mind. Quests were good, but rare quests were infamous for their complexity and difficulty. Once he had a few more levels under his belt, Allen would turn his attention back to Luck.

Satisfied with his choices, Allen decided to keep the other fourteen points for emergencies. There was still a whole lot about the 'Game' he was playing so it couldn't hurt to be careful.

With that done, Allen tapped on his skills, just to see if any of them had leveled up and he had been too preoccupied with dealing with people shooting at him to notice.

 **Gamer Body (passive)- Ability to allow the user to live in reality as if it were a game.**

 **Gamer Mind (passive)- Allows the user to calmly and logically to think things through. Immunity to all physiological effects.**

 **Physical Endurance (passive) Lvl 4 Exp: 75% -** **The durability of your body goes up and you take less damage.** **8% less damage taken.**

 **Abnormal Resistance (passive) Lvl 4 Exp: 6%-** **4% Resistance to toxins, poisons, and drugs**

 **Dish-washing (passive) Lvl 86 Exp: 0%- Proficiency in washing dishes**

 **Pistols (passive) Lvl 19 Exp: 45%-** **Proficiency in use of all hand-held guns of any caliber**

 **Driving (passive) Lvl 44 Exp: 76%- Ability to drive class C vehicles**

 **Intimidate (passive) Lvl 1 Exp: 0%-** **'Convincing' others to do your bidding with a well-placed glare**

'My Physical Endurance went up a few levels,' he noted, thinking that a bullet to the leg would do that. Now that he saw how useful of a skill this really was, he was going to have to grind it. Which meant hurting himself.

Lovely.

'Intimidation,' Allen read, smirking at the summary of the skill. When had he picked up this? Last night? Briefly thinking about it, he figured it would have to be when the deal nearly fell through but he didn't remember getting a pop up telling him that the skill had been created. But what other time could it have been?

'Wait a minute,' Allen thought to himself, pressing the Quests tab. Currently, he had no active quests but after scrolling down a very long list of dishwashing quests, he hit the bottom.

It was then that his legs nearly gave out from underneath him when he read his quest rewards. Not believing it, he pressed on his inventory and was thoroughly disheartened to see that his money counter was just hovering above zero. He also didn't see any suit icons in the storage screen. But when he pressed the Gamer title, he saw that he had a new one to choose.

'I have the skill and the title Driver,' Allen thought to himself, wiping water out of his eyes. So the rewards were real on that front but those were directly a part of his ability. Suits, money and a weapon were all tangible things. They existed outside of his ability.

'So, I have to wait,' Allen figured. If he was going to get his other rewards, then they wouldn't just pop into existence. Which he had no complaints about because at least then he would know it wasn't fake money or cheap suits. However, until he had them in his hands, Allen wasn't going to expect much. Just to be sure.

With a sigh, he closed his status window, thinking that he saw all that he needed to see, and turned off the shower head. Comparing to how he felt when he stepped in, Allen felt like a new man when he stepped out of the shower.

Making sure not to get water everywhere, he walked to the mirror and wiped away the steam that gathered on it to check his work. He didn't see any more dried blood and he noticed that his nose, which he knew he broke, was perfectly straight again.

Allen noticed something else, though.

He leaned in closer to his reflection, confused by what he was seeing before he slowly reached up and grabbed some hair from his bangs. His hair wasn't long enough for him to pull it down to see, so he pulled it away so he could better examine it in the mirror.

Yep. No matter how he looked at it, that was a patch of gray hair.

While that was weird enough, he was only sixteen after all, but he could accept that he sprouted a few gray hairs after last night. He even expected it. However, it was how the hairs were.

Almost none of them were gray at the root. Most of them started half way down, or almost at the root. The even weirder thing was that most of the hairs didn't even stay gray until the end. In fact, most of them stopped before coloring back to black. Some even faded back to gray. To top it all of, Allen was sure he was seeing some white in the mix.

"What the..." Allen muttered before he turned his head slightly and noticed a similar patch of gray/white/black hair just above his ear. Both of them were no bigger than an inch long and half that wide but...it was just so odd. He wasn't a hair expert like his sister, who seemed to own every hair care product that has ever existed, but he was certain that hair wasn't supposed to do that.

That wasn't to say he didn't like them. He did. They made him look more distinctive and cool. He just thought it was weird.

He looked at his reflection for a long moment, soaking in his appearance and the memories of last night flashing before his eyes.

Allen let out a sigh, "my life's so weird." He said to himself before he turned away and reached into his inventory and grabbed some spare clothes.

He was in the middle of putting on his pants when the door was kicked in.

Allen received a second shower, except this one was of splinters. He couldn't even bring himself to react, it was so unexpected. He was frozen, one leg in his pants and the other getting ready. He looked over with wide eyes and saw it was Melanie.

She stared at him with flat eyes and an expressionless mask. A tense silence blossomed between them before Allen broke it some seconds later.

"I don't mind dying. Just let me put pants on first." A bold face lie and an odd last wish.

She stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a long-suffering sigh. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

Allen waited a moment, trying to figure out if he really was about to die before he shrugged mentally and continued putting his pants on.

Then, when he was at his most valuable, he was attacked.

"Allllleeeennnn!" He heard his assaulter scream before he tackled him. Allen lets out 'oomph' before his back cracked a couple dozen times from the sheer pressure that he was being squeezed by.

'This...this is how I'm going to die again...?' Allen thought to himself, overcome with a sense of annoyance. He lived through all of that insanity, only to be mauled to death by a wild bear?

Really, his luck was just the worst. Was it too late to put points into it?

Then the bear took a step back and Allen saw that it wasn't a bear, but Junior. So, he wasn't being mauled. Just sexually harassed.

That was made abundantly clear when Junior suddenly leaned in and kissed him. Full on the mouth. It lasted an uncomfortably long time; Junior doing that weird humming thing and Allen trying to scream in confusion or terror, but all came out was a high pitched squeak that didn't make it past his throat.

When Junior did pull back, a smile was consuming his face. "Allen you wonderful bastard! I knew recruiting you was the best idea I've ever had!" He yelled, sounding so excited as he held Allen by the shoulders, still off the ground. Seriously, how strong was Junior?

Allen looked so confused for a moment, a thousand questions on his mind, before a look of acceptance emerged

Really, this was not how he pictured his morning going. Nor his reaction to using his shower.

Speaking of which...

"You know Junior, most people flatter before they have me with my pants off." He commented on a dry tone. Not that any had taken his pants off, though not for a lack of trying on his part. Luckily Junior hadn't stolen his first kiss. So there was a silver lining.

Junior barked a laugh before he dropped Allen, "fair enough. But you, you have no idea what you've done for me, for us!" He said looking crazed. The image was enhanced by Juniors bloodshot eyes and the bags under them. Unlike him, Junior didn't look like he got any sleep at all.

"No...no, I don't," Allen said sounding a bit wary. He didn't think Junior was going to do anything to him but Allen was learning to be cautious.

"You've given me all of Vale!" Junior exclaimed, confusing Allen. He remembered giving Junior a lot of money and drugs. Not a country. Before he could ask, Junior grabbed him by the shoulder and began pulling him out of the bathroom, Allen managed to hitch his pants up as he walked but he was left shirtless.

The trip was only a couple of steps, the destination was in front of a Tv that Junior moved into his office. Without another word, he grabbed the remote from Miltiades and turned it on.

"-Police Commissioner James Gordon stated that the sting operation was a resounding success. Well, over four hundred arrests were made last night and many more are expected in the following days as evidence is compiled. From our reporters, we've learned that the police baited the criminals and lead them to Arc bridge where they were successfully arrested and are currently awaiting-"

Junior flicked it off before he turned to Allen, "bah! Government censorship." He spat before carelessly throwing the remote over his shoulder. Allen understood what he meant completely; he couldn't claim to know just how big of an event last night was, but the news weren't letting some details out. There was no way that the bridge wasn't a bloodbath yet the news made no mention of casualties on either side. Only the successful arrest of most of the criminal underworld by some plan that didn't exist until a couple of hours ago.

"The only thing she got right was most of the gangs in Vale are either dead or in the slammer," Junior said and Allen couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. With how many cars there were on both sides, you could say everyone in Vale was on that bridge and Allen could believe it.

"That," Junior continued, "and the fact that this was planned." He said, getting Allen's undivided attention.

He knew it! There was no way that his luck was just that bad! Who was it? Who was the bastard that nearly got him killed dozens of times? Why was Junior looking at him like that? Why was he smiling?

Without any warning, Junior slapped him on the shoulder. Hard. Hard enough that he lost five points of health.

"I'm not much of a planner," Junior admitted easily. "I'm not that bright, so I usually let Roman do the planning. I just supply support and information...but, but I can recognize a good plan when I see one." Junior said, thoroughly confusing Allen before it suddenly clicked.

'Ohhhh nooo...,' Allen thought to himself as Junior grabbed him by the shoulders, already knowing what the larger man was going to say.

"How did you do it?" Junior asked, making Allen's stomach sink. Yep, Juniors habit of deciding a story had kicked in. He noticed it after a few days of being a dishwasher, whenever one of his guys would muck up a job, Junior already decided how and why before they even opened their mouths. Then nothing could convince him otherwise.

Allen wasn't sure if Junior couldn't be convinced when it came to not doing the thing that he thought he had done right, but why would Allen not take credit for something good?

He didn't even need those points in intelligence to understand that there was going to be a power vacuum. All those people that made up the criminal underworld were either dead or behind bars. Those that weren't were going scramble to grab as much territory as they could, but they simply didn't have the manpower. Not like Junior did.

So, Junior was in the perfect position to snatch up territory, had enough guys to overpower anyone that tries to resist and, failing that, he knew all the little secrets of the underworld.

Junior was being served an empire on a silver platter...and he thought that it was Allen that prepared and served it for him.

Why on Remnant would he want him to think differently?

"Well, Amaranth made off with both the drugs and money. Azure was unhappy about that, threatened to kill me a couple of times, so I started chasing." Allen began from the beginning, buying himself time to think of a good lie. He had half a dozen off the top of his head, but he needed something to support it but couldn't be questioned for verification.

An image of a shattered scroll popped in his head and Allen suppressed a wicked grin.

"I was worried about the police, so I figured I needed something to keep them busy. The scroll you gave me had a bunch of numbers on it and-" he couldn't drive and talk on a scroll at the same time- "I gave it to Azure and told him to start calling." He continued as he felt the urge to curse. He really just put his future in the hands of that arsehole.

Junior nodded, thinking that made sense. The scroll that he had given Allen was one of the untraceable ones he had laying around. There was a very real possibility that the one he gave him was a little more important than he thought. Also, that matched up with the story that the other bodyguard gave. He hadn't heard much since he was leaning out of a window, but he confirmed that Azure had a scroll in his hand and was shouting at it.

"Where's the scroll?" Miltiades cut in, not making and effort in the slightest to hide that she didn't believe Allen.

Making a split second decision, Allen reached into his pocket as he silently activated his inventory. His hand disappeared into it, but to them, it simply looked like he was digging through his pocket.

He knew that they already knew about his ability, but he was trying to push that conversation off for a little while longer. At least until he finished telling one, potentially, life-changing lie.

He pulled the shattered scroll put his pocket and held it up for all to see.

"It was one of the few casualties on our side," Allen said with a grin. The scroll and his suit. And shoes. Wherever the other one went.

Both Miltiades and Melanie scrunched up their noses in doubt as they rolled their eyes. "How every convenient for you," Miltiades said in a bored tone.

That cast a shadow of doubt over his story, so Allen responded accordingly.

"Oh, ye of little faith! If you don't believe me, then ask Azure." Allen said, doubling down on his lie. He knew from experience that if he sounded confident enough, then they wouldn't waste time by checking his bluff.

"Azure is dead," Miltiades said, verbally slapping the cocky grin on Allen's lips away.

That was...how? He got the experience points. He leveled up. He didn't fail the quest, sooo...how exactly did-

"Azure was," Junior paused for a moment, searching for a word. "Unhappy that he wasn't getting the focus or the money. So," Junior made a dragging motion across his throat, make the message loud and clear.

Ohh...that was...that was his fault, wasn't it? He gave the drugs and money to Junior and now...

He...he couldn't think about that right now.

"What about the tracker, though," Junior asked, breaking Allen away from his darkening thoughts.

However, Allen didn't miss a beat,

"The distraction worked a little too well. Every cop and gang member in Vale was on the streets, making it so chaotic that it was slowing me down dealing with it all. Azure placed a tracker on the lien and I saw that Amaranth was heading for the bridge. It was a perfect ambush spot-" in hindsight "-so I sent out the GPS. That plan worked out a little too well also because the next thing I know I see a wall of police-" Allen said, wondering who really sent out the GPS as he lied through his teeth.

It was an issue he was going to deal with later, but it was an issue.

"You didn't see that coming?" Melanie asked, cutting him off. Like her sister, she was trying to poke holes in his story, but it lacked the same ire that they held for him before. It was like they were just trying to give him a hard time, like they always did, instead of trying to catch him with his pants-his metaphorical pants down.

"No. I wanted to cause a confrontation to thin the herd, but I didn't plan on being in the center of it. I didn't think that Azure would send out a message to the police because when I got on the bridge I was looking at a wall of them. The herd was behind me, so I needed to get off the bridge and the only way was down." Allen finished explaining and watched as Junior nodded his head slowly like he knew it all along. The Malachite sisters, on the other hand, glared at him.

Which was nothing new, but they stopped trying to poke holes in his story.

Allen did feel a bit bad for lying. Junior did a lot for him, but it wasn't like he was screwing him over or anything. The opportunity was there; Allen was just editing his role in it a bit.

He was always a good liar. He never really understood why; maybe it was growing up with an older sister that went through her rebellious phase a little early, so he learned what not to do to avoid getting caught.

It was the little things really. Simple stuff like making sure to look them in the eyes. Sounding confident. To not touch your face or do anything with you hands. Make the lie believable by adding a few details to help build the lie. Nothing big, nothing that you couldn't remember on the fly but a little detail goes a long way.

One of the best ways to lie was to include an embarrassing detail. After all, no one liked being embarrassed so why would they tell you that unless it was the truth?

The best ways to get through a lie, even when they're calling you out on it, was to double down. Most of the time they wouldn't call your bluff or they would back off. Why would you insist that it was the truth unless it was the truth?

Sure, it made things that much worse if they insisted and were proven right but that was neither here nor there.

However, the best lies were ones that were just the truth told in a misleading manner.

Allen wasn't perfect at it. His dad could attest to that, but he did manage to get away with it most of the time. And that was back when he didn't have Gamer Mind keeping him calm and helping him shove those pangs of guilt under cold rationalization.

Allen was moving up the ladder at an incredible pace. He was already a few notches above the average goon simply because Junior saw his talent for the business. However, with the opportunity that he laid at Junior's feet, Allen would shoot right to the top.

Sure, he was shooting up because of a little white lie. Sure, he might find himself in even more dangerous situations. Sure, this could bite him in the arse at a later date.

Regardless, Allen was doing it. With one quest he was stronger than most people. With his stat points he had a great deal more control over his growth, so he had that advantage as well. He could develop skills that would help him along.

The pros simply outweighed the cons

"Either way, it was a good plan and I can think of worse things than a plan going a little too well." Junior barked a laugh and smacked Allen on the shoulder again. Seriously, what was up with Junior's strength? Another five points down the drain...

Regardless, the flash of pain helped him hide the grin. Junior bought it. Hook, line and sinker.

Allen gave him a lopsided grin, "though, from where I was sitting, it seemed like the plan went horribly, horribly wrong.

"I bet. What was it you said? 'It's my final meal?'" Junior quoted and Allen saw that he was trying to steer the conversation to his ability to pull things from thin air. It was a little more subtle than Allen had been expecting; if it were him, he'd be a little more direct and significantly more confused.

Not that Allen was complaining. It gave him time to think of some plausible explanation because there was absolutely no way in hell Allen was going to tell Junior the truth about him being the Gamer. He wasn't an idiot, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Junior might not be the brightest bulb, but he had an eye for potential. Allen was a testament to that. It was impossible that he wouldn't see all the possibilities with his ability. With the right training, with the right skills, with enough time...Allen could become a force of nature.

And there was simply no way that Junior would just stand by and watch, twiddle his thumbs as Allen grew stronger and stronger. He would do one of two things; the most likely would be to help him. Train him, give him access to potential skills to learn and all the hardware he could ever desire.

However, there would be a catch.

Allen couldn't know how Junior would do it, but Junior would sink his claws into him. Possibly through manipulation or blackmail or something. The end result would be the same regardless. Allen would become his attack dog and, with his potential and power, Allen was willing to bet his leash would be a short one.

The second possibility was much more simple; Junior would just kill him.

If Junior thought that the rewards didn't outweigh the risks...Junior was willing to kill. Allen hadn't known for certain, he thought that Junior held some aversion to taking a life but that was quickly disproven with Azure. He was killed for being a pain in the arse. Allen would be killed because he was a threat.

So, he was going to have to edit the extent of his potential. And...Allen thought he knew just how to do it.

"Yeah, but in my defense, I thought it was. Never been so terrified in my entire life," Allen admitted easily enough with a shrug. At least that much was the truth...and anyone who said that they wouldn't be scared was either an idiot or a liar.

"Either way, it's brilliant! Bloody brilliant!" Junior said, adopting Allen's favorite curse. "I'm already making moves to knock over the remaining pins and securing my territory, but I need you out there Allen. Go get dressed, I'll show you your reward for a job well done but then it's back to the grind." Junior commanded, slapping Allen on the shoulder again.

'Gah! It's always the same spot too,' Allen thought to himself, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his shoulder, mourning the loss of five more health points and the bruise that was sure to form. However, he realized something odd. Something very odd.

Junior hadn't asked about his ability.

Allen sent the taller man an odd look, confused by the lack of curiosity. Junior knew just about everything and if he didn't then he knew a guy that did. How could he not be curious about his ability to pull things out of thin air? That just didn't make any sense; it wasn't in line with Junior's character at all.

Junior, misreading the look, gave Allen a sly grin, "sorry, but I need all hands on deck. I need you out there making sure my boys don't muck this up." He explained, thinking that Allen was upset that he wasn't getting a day off.

Ah...teenagers and their lack of work ethic. Somethings never change.

Junior went to give Allen an apologetic pat on the shoulder, making Allen brace himself for impact, but he stopped suddenly. His eyes were focused on something that shouldn't be there.

There was a giant, bright red handprint on Allen's shoulder.

Slowly, Junior grabbed Allen by the bicep, confusing the teen greatly, as slowly turned him around. It was then he saw something that shocked him to his core.

On Allen's back was a giant smiling face. Two stab wounds above the smile, one for each lung, and eight more that started just below the ribs until they met in the middle of Allen's spine. The stab wounds were thin, razor thin, but with a glance, Junior could tell that whatever stabbed him had cut through Allen's spine and ribs because the scars were clean.

"What the fuck..." Junior slipped out and Allen gave him a curious look over his shoulder. To his surprise, Junior's face looked pale while Miltiades and her sister looked taken back.

Allen frowned, not understanding what the fuss was about, tried to get a look at his back. He craned his neck to get a peek at what Junior saw but he couldn't. All he saw was the back side of his red shoulder and a little bit of his side.

"Whats wrong?" He asked, sounding a little nervous. Was there something on his back? Did he not clean himself good enough? If that was the case, then it wasn't his fault! How could he wash his own back to perfection?

"How did your aura manage to heal this? This is..." Junior asked, trailing off as he realized he just didn't have the words. These wounds would have killed anyone else and even if they did survive then they would be crippled. He sent a glance at the Malachite sister, hoping that they would have some kind of explanation. However, they looked just as lost as he did.

"My what?" Allen asked, now looking just as lost as they did. His...aura? Like some mystical soul crap? What in the heck did his 'aura' have to do with what was on his back? Healing? Healing what-

'Oh,' Allen realized. His back...where he was stabbed to death...yeah, that was a bit of an oversight on his part. With Gamer Body, he just figured the wounds had vanished instead of healed. Based on their reactions, Allen was willing to go out on a limb and say he was wrong.

"Your aura, you dunce. That thing that heals you and protects you from damage? The representation of your soul" Miltiades said dryly, looking very unimpressed by his lack of knowledge.

Ummm...what?

Representation of his soul? What? She...what? His what? That...

'She's talking like it's common knowledge,' Allen realized. He was supposed to know what it was and it's abilities. That meant that it wasn't some mystical nonsense. That meant that his 'aura' was a..tangible thing with known properties, that its existence was verified and tested.

Which made absolutely no sense at all.

"Yeahhh...I'm not even going to try to pull off that I know what that is. What do you mean it's the representation of my soul?" Allen asked, finally turning around and breaking Junior's stupor. Before he knew just enough to be able to roll with it. This went so far above his head it was on cloud nine.

"Before that," Junior cut Melanie off before she could answer, or make fun of Allen. "You don't have it unlocked," Junior stated and Allen just gave him an utterly baffled look.

Unlocked? Had he to unlock his soul? By what? Going on some journey to find himself? Smoking the magical herb? What was going on here? Junior sees his stab wounds and starts asking if he 'unlocked his soul?' What made sense about any of that?

"No?" Allen ventured, feeling self-conscious. Was he supposed to have it unlocked?

"You...then how did you heal so quickly? Dew gave you a look over when you were sleeping and he said you already healed everything and I thought it was your semblance with that stunt you pulled with the drugs and money! What was that?" Junior demanded, looking annoyed that he had been wrong. Allen gave him a cautious look, idly realizing that was why Junior hadn't asked. He decided a reason and figured he didn't need to.

Allen paused for a long moment, considering his options before he let out a soft sigh. "Okay. This is going to be a lot easier if I just start from the beginning," he said, sounding resigned. Junior seemed to calm down at that and the sisters openly looked at him curiously. Slowly, Junior nodded before he sat down, gesturing for the sisters to do the same.

"Alright. Take it from the top," Junior commanded, pinning his bloodshot eyes on him.

Allen ran a hand through his damp hair and let out another sigh. This was not how he pictured his morning going. In hindsight, he realized he should have just rolled with the 'aura' excuse and looked up what it was later. But how was he supposed to know that having his aura unlocked was supposed to give him some kind of super power called a semblance?!

"So...umm, well," Allen began ineloquently, really trying to find a way to soften the landing of the bomb he was about to drop. "You know when you thought my execution didn't take?" Junior suddenly looked very weary while Miltiades and Melanie gave him such dry stares that it wasn't even funny.

"Well, it sorta did. For, like five minutes! Ten tops!" He added and Junior rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Oh, it's going to be one of those days, huh," he figured to himself. Today started off great; his coffee was perfect, his breakfast was delicious and he was unwrapping the gift of an empire that Allen dropped into his lap.

Miltiades looked at him with stunned disbelief. A reaction that was mirrored by her sister Melanie. They shared a long look, communicating in a way that only twins could.

With that sentence, Allen just became a lot more interesting.

Allen gave his boss a lopsided grin, agreeing with the man whole heartily. "I died. They killed me in some alleyway on my way home; I'm not sure why. I didn't do anything worth being killed over," Allen said, frowning. That would be one of the mysteries that he doubted that he would ever solve.

Junior nodded slowly, accepting the answer. With the new information, Junior figured he had been killed by a rival gang. That would explain the smiling stab wounds.

"But...I came back," he said hesitantly. "I just...woke up. No one was near me and they dumped my body here, so I had a little panic attack and an existential crisis. That's when I came here; I figured I could use a couple of drinks to help me deal with...my death." Allen said and felt a chill run down his spine.

Now that he said the words aloud, now that he was telling the story it just seemed so...real. Not that it wasn't before, but now...the fact that he died, that he had been murdered, really sunk in. A weight settled on his shoulders...no, the weight was already there. He just became aware of it.

Allen swallowed thickly, clearing his mind of the thoughts, before continuing. "After I cleared my debt with you, I realized that I couldn't go home. It just wasn't an option anymore," he said and that much was the truth. Everything so far was the truth and maybe that was why it hurt to say.

He couldn't go home. Even if he could, even if a some portal opened up before him back to his old life he...

Allen wouldn't go through it. He couldn't. He..he wasn't the same anymore.

Last night, he had killed people. He realized it when he was in the shower, thinking about the events that lead him there. He was a killer now, at least two to his name. After all, in video games, you don't get experience for wounding an enemy. You don't level up by almost defeating them.

Allen had killed them. The first had been when he was firing blindly as he ran to the car. That one...that one had been an accident. He was just shooting back, he hadn't really thought he'd hit anyone...

But, the second time? When he pulled an 180 and fired into the windshield of the guys behind him?

That one was on purpose...that one was a murder.

The real kicker was, what really hurt the most, what would ground his feet and what stopped him from considering going home was one simple truth. One fact.

Allen...would do it all again.

He felt bad that they were dead. He felt sad that he killed them. He regretted the situation that they all had been placed in.

However...however, he would do it again. Allen would kill them again simply because he was alive because he did. Killing them gave him the experience points necessary to level up. It was those stat points that saved his life that night.

Allen was alive because they were dead.

"But what about your sem-abilities," Melanie questioned, breaking Allen out of his darkening thoughts. Allen looked at her and realized that she looked...concerned...? Had his expression reflected what was going on his head?

A quick glance at Junior and Miltiades told him yes.

"Right. I didn't know about them for a while," Allen said, lying for the first time. "I felt fine, I didn't really feel any different from before I was murdered." He continued, speaking the truth. "But, slowly, I noticed some...odd things. Like when I was drinking, I couldn't get drunk. Or when I cut my finger on a knife when I was washing dishes, the cut healed in seconds. Then, a week ago, I put my wallet in pocket but when I sat down I didn't feel it. When I checked, it was gone but when I reached into my back pocket, it was there." Allen explained, only the last part being the lie. Not even that, the only thing that wasn't the truth was that it had been his phone.

Junior leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his beard, thinking about what he heard. "It sounds a lot like aura," he said, comparing it to Allen's abilities. The accelerated healing and the increase tolerance to alcohol were side effects of aura. The pocket dimension could still be his semblance, but...

If it was aura, then his slaps to the back shouldn't have done anything to him. Especially not when he was expecting it. If it was aura, then it should have absorbed the damage.

Suddenly, Miltiades stood up, surprising everyone in the room. With two quick strides, she cupped Allen's cheeks as looked at him intently.

'Is she-?!' Allen began to think, his hopes soaring but were quickly dashed when she applied pressure to his cheeks, making his lips pucker like a fish. She looked at him with cruel amusement before she schooled her expression.

"For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." She chanted and Allen was stunned to see a red glow envelop her for a moment. It felt warm, his face was caressed by a gentle warmth and Allen relaxed at the touch. It was like waking up on a cold winter morning wrapped in your blanket and remembering that you don't have to get up for another couple of hours.

Then he felt something. Like a tug in his gut or a gentle nudge to his...soul? His limbs filled with strength and a sense of power filled him for a moment.

Then the moment passed and Miltiades recoiled away from him like he had burned her.

"Ummm," he started, unsure how to react as Miltiades took a step back. Allen realized that there wasn't anything he could say to here. Not when she looked at him with conf...no...no, that was fear. He never expected to see that expression on her face and he most certainly never expected to be the cause of it.

She was afraid of him.

"Miltiades?" Junior asked, rising from his chair, sending Allen a look, who could only shrug helplessly in response. Melanie shot out of her chair and grabbed her sister by the wrist, concern clear on her face.

"What did he do?" She hissed, sending Allen a look and he was taken back by it. He physically took a step back, like the look had shoved him.

He knew the Malachite sisters didn't like him at all...but Melanie looked ready to kill him.

"He didn't do anything," Miltiades said before Melanie could act on her murderous intent. "It's his soul, it," she paused, searching for a way to describe it. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, something that she thought was impossible. No, not even impossible, she hadn't ever considered such a thing ever happening.

"Its fake," she said, her brow furrowing in thought. Miltiades didn't know how else to explain it. Allen's soul wasn't real, it wasn't the genuine article. It was like a pair of good knock off shoes; it looked the same and she would never have known if she hadn't reached out and touched it. Only then did she realized that it was fake.

"Ummm," Allen started again, looking genuinely concerned. He had a fake soul? How...how did that even happen?!

'When I died,' Allen figured, thinking that was the only time when his...soul...could have left him. Which meant that the Gamer abilities were a part of his artificial soul. Maybe the source.

Allen let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had no idea what to make of that. Apparently when he died, he left a piece of himself back home or in that whiteness. A hopefully unimportant piece. To make up for it, he gained his powers. Which lead him to the massive question of how he gained his new fake soul; after all, who or what could make a soul?

That was a very short list and Allen knew he wasn't going to get the chance to ask them that question. At least not until he died again.

"Well, this has been enlightening, but if it's all the same to you, I'm just going to pretend the last ten minuted never happened," Allen said with a sense of acceptance. He didn't know the specifics of what happened to him in that whiteness, or even what it meant for him. However, he knew that standing here and racking his brain over it wasn't going to give him the answers he was looking for. Might as well move on.

"You...! No, you aren't even curious? You have a fake soul! Why aren't you freaking out about this?!" Miltiades demanded, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Don't you understand what this means? Everything has a soul! Grimm are the only things that don't and now you...!" she trailed off, sounding frustrated with his lack of a reaction. Idly, he noted that in the past few minutes he's seen more emotion on her face than the past few weeks. Honestly, he was starting to think that staring disdainfully were their default expressions.

There was that word again. Grimm. Allen made the mental note to look up what that was later because it seemed like it was one of those things he should know.

Hiding a grin, Allen shrugged, "what can I do about it? I don't even know where I would begin looking for my real soul, or even how to start the search. I seem fine with the one that I have and I haven't noticed anything weird-" Allen paused, "too weird with it. I don't feel any different and I'm not waking up in the middle of the night with the need to speak to the devil. I'm fine," He continued with a shrug. He meant it too. Sure, he was worried about the implications and there was the whole 'afterlife' thing to consider, but what could he do? Nothing was the answer.

Melanie and Miltiades looked at him with a mixture of exasperation and annoyance, both of which Allen was far more use to seeing.

Suddenly, Junior threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, man, when I thought you were an interesting guy, I had no clue what I was getting myself into." He said aloud, sending Allen a grin, which he returned. "We can't do anything about it now. I'll send out some lines and I'll see if I can get a bite, but I doubt anything will come up. You're right, it's best to just move on." He said and Allen nodded in agreement.

Miltiades and Melanie looked like they wanted to strangle them both before they sighed at the same time. "Whatever," they said in unison, turning their noses at them with practiced ease. However, Allen got the feeling that the subject was far from closed with them. Miltiades was hiding it well, but she still seemed unnerved by what happened and Melanie hadn't let go of her hand.

Allen could barely believe it. It had worked! They believed him! Haha! Things were really looking up for Allen Walker!

 **Title Gained: The Lying Liar**

 **Decreased hesitation to lie. Increased ability to incorporate facts into a lie.**

Allen stared at the box, the edge of his enthusiasm taken off. He read it again, thinking that the description was vague. Normally, a title granted some kind of percentage buff that could be stacked but he was noticing that his skill lacked that. Pistols didn't grant any kind of bonus like increased damage or reload time.

Perhaps his Gamer ability, or his fake soul, whatever, could only influence reality so much? If that was the case then how did it know about the secret objectives? Did it just calculate all the possible outcomes and pick which were most likely? So, were the quests based solely on the information that he had?

Really, he was starting to wonder if the ability was worth the headaches it gave him

"Now we got all of that weird confusing crap out of the way," Junior began with a clap of his hands. And just like that, Allen knew why Junior was so willing to let the matter drop. He hadn't understood any of it.

"On to the good stuff," he continued with a wide grin. Without another word, Junior left the room and was followed by Miltiades and Melanie, along with Allen after a moment's hesitation before he recalled what Junior said before they got into Allens weirdness.

Giddy as a school girl, Allen followed them onto the dance floor and into the basement after putting on a shirt from his inventory. While it was Allens first time in here, he knew the room acted as a neutral meeting ground for gangs. Even before all of the competition had been taken out, Junior still ran the largest gang in Vale. However, unlike now, Junior hadn't pressed his advantage like others would.

He had been content with his position as number one. Enough so that he took to hiring out his boys to other gangs for additional profit; though, for enough money, he would hire out guys to your rival gang as well. He knew all the major players already and he wasn't actively gunning for anyone; so, The Club was the place that every gangster and kingpin went to settle disputes.

They entered the room and Allens eyes snapped to the items resting on the long table. A black lien and fourteen suit covers.

Allen was practically vibrating with excitement, which earned an honest laugh from Junior. He knew that Miltiades and Melanie would make fun of him later but he couldn't help it! If that was what he thought it was then Allen was about to overdose on excitement.

"As expected, once you get a taste for the high life, you can't go back to wearing those rags," Junior said with a shake of his head, gesturing to Allens current attire. Old jogging pants that saw their best days years ago with someone else and a baggy t-shirt with a logo for a band no one had ever heard of.

"But," he continued grabbing the card off the table and waving it before Allens face like it was a treat for a dog. "Is a third of what was on the card Azure had. Three point three million lien!" Junior said dramatically before holding it out to Allen. It could never be said that Junior didn't reward good work.

Allen couldn't help himself. Gamer mind be damned, he was just handed three million lien! He let out a high pitched squeak and bounced on the spot. He couldn't have cared less about the Malachite sisters laughing at him or Junior just shaking his head in amusement. Hell, he didn't even care that they caught it on the camera in the corner of the room, which he would no doubt be blackmailed with at a future date.

As far as Allen was concerned, three million lien was the most beautiful string of words ever created in the English language.

Just like that his financial problems were solved! Just like that, he became filthy stinkin rich!

"Calm down a bit," Junior said and Allen struggled to obey. He clenched the black card in his hand like it was his life line. With this little piece of plastic, his days of not having money were over. Heck, if he wanted to, he could retire and live the rest of his life in comfort! He was a freakin _millionaire_!

He wouldn't though. Greed was his sin.

"You did great work out there Allen and these are rewards for a job well done," he said, gesturing to the rack of suits and the fortune in Allens hands. "But there's a lot of work left to do. The remaining players are snatching up ground as we speak. I need you out there overseeing my boys and knocking down the remaining kingpins," he said before he gave Allen a smile full of teeth.

"You in?"

 **Quest Chain unlocked: Rome wasn't built in a day.**

 **Objective: secure complete control over Vale's underworld.**

 **Rewards: Every king needs a right hand. Greatly increased influence. Money (amount determined based off percentage off total revenue of 'trades.') Max trust with Junior. Vast increase trust with Miltiades and Melanie Malachite.**

 **Failure: Death, incarceration, maimement.**

 **Refusals: Vast decrease trust with Junior. Vast decreased trust with Miltiades and Melanie Malachite. Removal from 'The Gang.' Removal of previous quest rewards.**

"Do you really need to ask?"


	5. First Impressions

**I'm not sure how this chapter became as long as it is. Not a whole lot happens; some meetings, quests and world building.**

 **Also, I didn't get the chance to read through this chapter as many times as I usualy do, so there might be more mistakes than normal. Grammerly can only do so much.**

 **With that out the way, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

"Okay. I know you're not exactly my biggest fan, but could you stop with the torture?" Allen asked but the question was answered with a kick to the jaw, snapping it shut and rattling his teeth. He caught air for a moment, just a few inches, but when Melanie turned on her heel and kicked him in the stomach hard enough that he folded like a piece of paper.

Allen flew across the dance floor and into the DJ's station. The thing was built sturdier than he was because he bounced off it with a grunt and fell a few feet before landing on his face.

Allen groaned pitifully as the knowledge the Physical Endurance reached level ten appeared in his mind. The pain was rapidly fading to nothing but he laid on the floor for a few seconds, hoping that Melanie wouldn't kick him while he was down...yeah...right.

"Don't be such a drama queen Walker. You'll be fine," Melanie said dismissively as she approached. She wasn't even looking at him. She examined her freshly painted nails for any imperfections. "Plus, I'd hardly torture you in this dress," she added, tsking in annoyance when she saw the nail-polish was scuffed. Likely due to Allen's face.

Allen looked up, narrowing his eyes. She didn't say she wouldn't torture him. That was mildly terrifying.

Taking a moment, he knew that he was a just above half health. Unlike the levels up of skills, Allen was always aware of how much health and mana he had at any given moment. He was constantly aware of it, like a well tuned internal clock. Even then, it still surprised him. A day and a half ago, Allen nearly died because he was shot in the leg but now he's getting manhandled by Melanie and asking for seconds.

It made sense, he did have seven times as much health as he did before and he was fairly certain that Melanie was pulling her kicks. Otherwise, he would be an unrecognizable stain on the floor...and the walls...and the ceiling...

'Why did I sign up for this again?' Allen wondered to himself, catching his breath. He knew the reasons well enough. It was training for the future.

It didn't matter if he had all the Strength in the world if he threw a punch like a three-year-old. Dexterity wouldn't be worth a thing if he didn't have control over his body. Vitality would turn him into a glorified punching bag. Intelligence was worthless if he didn't use it. Wisdom meant nothing if he didn't have options. Luck...the less he said about luck the better.

Thus, after receiving his rewards, Allen asked the Malachite sisters to show him the ropes. How to throw a decent punch and the like. It was the first time he saw them argue over who got to tor-...train. He was reasonably sure that he meant train.

Junior didn't see a problem with it, even offered to use the dance floor as a sparring area. To his surprise, Allen wasn't expected to do the grunt work. At least not on street level. Junior wanted Allen as a planner, directing the grunts as he worked the streets. Yesterday was more of a show of what he was expected to do and getting his feet wet.

Nothing much. A few phone calls, a couple of guys giving him reports and a whole lot of reading on what Junior had on the remaining players. None of it compared to the excitement, and terror, of the other night but Allen didn't complain. He followed Junior like a shadow and learned from the man. Even the Quest that was created gave him minimal Exp and the rewards were increased knowledge about managing things.

However, Allen knew there was going to be a catch. Junior wouldn't have allowed Melanie to train him, not when he made it very clear that all hands were needed on deck. Based on that fact alone, Allen deduced that Junior was going to have him doing a lot of fighting in the near future. Who and why would remain mysteries but Allen had a bad feeling about it.

With a grunt, Allen pushed himself off the floor, wiping dust from his tracksuit but he knew a lost cause when he saw one. It was already a mess of tears and fresh bloodstains. He got the thing yesterday too...perfect for extreme conditions his arse. Once he was standing he settled in his...well, calling it a stance gave it far too much credit. All Allen did was turn his body to the side and clench his fists.

Allen wasn't really sure what he supposed to be learning here because in the few hours, Allen hadn't learned a thing. After he asked the question, and the twins stopped arguing, Melanie told him to be on the dance floor tomorrow morning. He arrived at five in the morning, feeling excited that he was going to learn a new life skill.

Or just a few skills. Allen didn't have any active ones that dealt out damage and used Mp. While passives were great, actives was where the real fun was at. They were the bread and butter for games.

Then, with nary a word, Melanie began beating the ever-loving shit out of him. No tips. Not pointers. No warnings. No mercy.

On the bright side, he managed to level up Physical Endurance a few times and earned two whole points for vitality! Which was awesome because earning stat points was like pulling teeth. His ability was very reluctant to give him any and he noticed the higher his stats were, the harder it was to earn them the old fashion way.

Allen hadn't spent much time trying to grind up his stats in the few weeks he had been on Remnant. He didn't have much of a reason to, in his opinion. He had been a lowly dishwasher, so grinding his Strength was pointless and Allen didn't even know how to begin grinding his Intelligence.

He suspected reading, but Allen wasn't sure. When he wasn't at work, he was in his studio apartment being a poor, moping teenager. Going out to the library was a hassle, not even mentioning Allen's natural aversion to books. Back then he didn't have money for a scroll, or a tv, so if he wanted to learn about Remnant he would have to go out of his way. Add that fact to he was still mourning over the loss of his family, being productive with his time hadn't been at the front of Allen's mind.

He did the same thing that he always did when he was depressed. He listened to music and slept a lot while trying to ignore that the outside world existed.

That would have to change now, of course, but Allen thought he was doing rather well so far. He was the to be head of The Gang, so Allen didn't think there was a need to throw off sleep to do pushups and the like. He was already stronger than the average idiot and he was 'sparring' with Melanie, so it was good enough for now.

Melanie looked over at him with a curious expression but Allen saw a note of surprise in her eyes. Maybe he was just getting to know them better, or maybe they were becoming more open with him, but Allen was slowly starting to see behind the masks the Malachite sisters wore. Peeks at best, but it was a pleasant change from the looks of disdain and annoyance from before.

"You're ready for another round?" Melanie asked, lowering her hand. The action told Allen that she was expecting that kick to put him down, "you really can take a beating for someone that lacks aura." She added, openly sounding surprised as she walked towards him. Her high heels-which hurt like a mother-clacking with confidence as she looked down at him.

She tilted her head, considering him. "Are you a masochist," she questioned before nodding to herself, deciding that was the case.

Allen simply sighed, the insults rolling off his back like a duck with water and affecting him just as much.

"Okay, I'm-" Allen said, preparing himself for round thirteen. However, he was interrupted by Melanie springing into action. Within a second, she closed the distance between them and aimed a high kick to the bottom of Allen's chin. He barely managed to dodge it by stepping back, surprised at the sudden attack. He couldn't retreat further because his back hit a wall.

Knowing that he was in a bad position, Allen dove to the left, trying to get some breathing room, but as he moved he so did Melanie. Kicking up with her other foot, she did a tight spin in mid-air, before lashing out and hitting Allen in the temple with a well-placed kick. Allen hit the ground, landing on his face, yet again, and laid there for a moment.

"Don't say you're ready unless you actually are," Melanie said casually to Allen as he moved again, shaking his head to clear it. Melanie looked at him curiously. That kick should have knocked him out cold, but she was watching him raise to his feet.

"Duly noted," Allen said as he rubbed the rest of the pain away. Seriously, this wasn't even fair. At level twenty-six, twice his level, Melanie was well out of reach. That as made abundantly clear when she beat him down with next to no effort.

"Want to continue," Melanie questioned and Allen's first instinct was to say no. Make that hell no. However, his health bar was still half full and he was smart enough to know that the pain now would be well worth it when it saved him later.

So, very reluctantly, Allen nodded.

Melanie let out a sigh, like beating him into the ground was a chore to her, as Allen got into his stance. She shook her head, "no. If you're that serious about this, then that...thing won't do. It's disgraceful," she added, gesturing to all of him. Allen thought that was fair enough.

Melanie circled Allen, like a shark, "spread your feet out. Not that much. There. Now, raise your arms like this," she commanded and Allen followed, settling into something that resembled a boxers stance. "Now bend your knees a little; that's good enough."

She circled around him for a few more moment, pointing out other flaws in his stance. After a minute, she nodded to herself, finally satisfied with it.

A skill has been created!

 **Footwork Mastery Lvl 1 Exp: 0%- the basis of every form of martial arts**.

Allen looked at the skill, feeling a pang of pride. Even if it was a new skill, and at level one no less, it was a mark of progress. Meaning that he wasn't getting his arse kicked simply to amuse Melanie anymore.

"Do you have any experience fighting?" She asked and rolled her eyes when Allen gave her a half-hearted smirk. The only thing that he could have called a fight that he had been in was that time one of his mates skipped him in line to play football when he was five. The fight was hardly something that would be immortalized in song.

"Fine. Better that way. Now I don't have to bother making you unlearn all your bad habits," she said more to herself. If Allen was taking this seriously and wasn't going to run away crying when she got rough, then she would have to get some kind of knowledge into that thick skull of his.

"I'm can't teach you how to fight," she said and Allen sent her a curious look. "Miltiades and I weren't taught, so I don't know how. Instead, I'm going to help you teach yourself." She explained and Allen nodded slowly at that. He filed that new information away to be examined at a later date.

"Wait...," he said, peering at the white clad girl with narrowed eyes. "If you're just now telling me that you can't teach me, then why were you kicking my teeth in earlier?" He asked, wishing that he could demand answers but Melanie didn't seem like she would react in a nonviolent manner.

Melanie smiled at him, a real smile that tugged at her lips and showed off teeth, the first he had seen from her, before turning on her heel and walking off the dance floor. Allen tilted his head as he most certainly did not watch her swaying hips.

Allen was broken out of his...admiring when he...felt? His scroll vibrated in his inventory.

Allen wasn't exactly sure how his inventory worked. When he put his scroll in, if he got a call then he was notified by a slight vibration in his pocket. However, if he didn't pull out the scroll, then the call wouldn't go through and the caller would be notified that his scroll couldn't be reached. Yet, when he pulled it out he would have a missed call notification.

While it was weird enough that he got scroll service in his personal pocket dimension, that wasn't the end of it. Time also did whatever it wanted to in there. When he put his scroll into his inventory and pulled it out a couple of minutes later, the time would be correct. But the sandwich he had left over, the one he made a week ago, was still perfectly edible. The bread was fresh and the ham was even still cold.

Allen simply decided to roll with it until he invested enough points into Intelligence to understand it.

He disguised him answering his scroll by reaching into his pocket. Allen found out that he could change where the inventory screen appeared if he concentrated and he could 'attach' it to some items. It made it very convenient for him to pull things out when he was around those that didn't know about his ability.

A quick glance told him that Junior was calling so he pressed accept instantly.

"What do you need?" Allen asked the screen, resisting his natural urge to place the phone to his ear. He had the first time and it earned him some odd looks before he passed it off as him never using a scroll before. They accepted the answer easy, after all, it did fall in line with his country bumbkin backstory.

"Thought I'd let you know that Amaranth is up," Junior answered easily. He sounded tired and Allen knew those sunglasses hide his red tinted eyes. He doubted that Junior slept any in the past two days. He was far too busy making calls and issuing orders.

Allen nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He didn't know Amaranth, he was glad to hear that she would be alright. She was asleep since the crash due to internal injuries.

"I'll go check on her," he informed, accepting the quest before Junior nodded curtly.

"Good, because she needs to make contact with the family back in Mistrel. Dew might not let her so you may have to do it." Junior informed before his scroll vibrated. "I just sent you a data packet, they're directions to the way station." He finished before he ended the call.

 **A Quest has been created!**

 **Main Objective: make contact with Cinnabar family**

 **Additional Objective:**

 **Make a good impression**

 **Rewards: Increased trust with Junior. Enables tab 'Connections'**

 **Failures: Decreased trust with Junior. Status of 'Enemy' of Cinnabar family.**

Seeing that the quest was non-optional, Allen let out a sigh before he pocketed his scroll but when he took his hand out, a suit cover came out of it. He earned a weird look from one of the goons that were walking by, but Allen ignored him was quickly put on his suit. Within a minute, he cleared the remaining blood off his face with the help of a reflective pillar and properly dressed.

This was what Allen was expected to do. The bigger jobs that Junior was too busy to deal with but too important to leave it to one of his goons. A simple conversation and he would be on his merry way. Unlike his usual quest rewards, Allen was eying the 'Connections' and 'Enemy Status' among his rewards and consequences. Enemy was self explanatory but Connections sounded interesting.

Once he was presentable, he turned and walked past the DJ setup and opened the door to a short hallway. He kept walking, idly thinking that The Club was deceptively big as he ate the aforementioned sandwich to get his health back up, until he came to a door. Unlike all the others in The Club, the door wasn't a flat black. Instead, its original color was white but it was hard to tell underneath the colorful drawings that covered the door. It looked like someone gave a bunch of five years olds a box of crayons and told them to go nuts.

In the center of the door, in a harsh contrast, were the words 'Medical Ward' in professional looking letters.

Allen popped his neck, bracing himself for big what he was going to see and hear, before he opened the door. In an instant, he was hit with a wall of noise of beeping monitors, shouting patients, and footsteps. He watched as a white blur bounced between patients. He really was like a force of nature, however, instead of dealing out pure destruction Dew dealt out bandaids, shots and suckers.

While it could always be possible that Dew was secretly the Flash, It was most likely he semblance. The superpower bestowed upon him by having his aura unlocked. Allen watched him for a moment, an actual blur that bounced around the room and in his wake stitches were done and IV's were hooked up. He was looking at the impossible, at least in the world he once knew, but in Remnant, this was...well, Allen wouldn't call it normal but it was common enough.

Naturally, Allen pretended like it didn't bother him before he looked around the room. He spotted Miltiades instantly, she stood out in the large room. Their eyes met and Allen saw boredom in them as she leaned against the door. She gestured for him to come closer and Allen obliged.

Stepping around beds that were laid out randomly, most being occupied, Allen asked, "anything I should know?"

Miltiades thought about it before she gave him a look over. He watched as her nose crinkled up, just like her twin sister, before she said, "yes. Square toed shoes are a blight upon Remnant and you should gut yourself to restore honor to your family name."

Allen looked down at his shoes, thinking that was a bit much before he looked back up.

"Seems a little harsh...and I like these shoes," he added a bit weakly. He did. He wasn't exactly rich in his past life, his dad worked a lot so they could live comfortably and he loved him for it. However, Allen was getting a taste for the high life. His shoes were outrageously comfortable, his suit was the same. If they didn't cost half a fortune, Allen would consider using them as pajamas.

"I'm so very shocked that you lack a sense of fashion," Miltiades deadpanned.

Memories surfaced of all the outfits he tried to leave the house in, only to be sent back into his room by his sister when she enacted her veto right. Most of the time he had no idea what she was talking about; stripes on stripes were totally fashionable.

Those few times he understood were due to hindsight; so, fair enough.

"Its just one of your many deficiencies," she tacked on when she saw Allen's thoughtful expression instead of the hurt one she had expected.

"Ouch. You know, if I were a lesser being, I would be in serious need of a phoenix down." Allen responded in a dry tone. He watched in some amusement as annoyance flashed in Miltiades's eyes before she opened her mouth to say something that would hurt the feelings of anyone else but the door that she was leaning on opened without warning.

Miltiades shot off the door to avoid blocking it and to avoid getting hit. She managed to clear out of its way, but the door clipped her heel as she stepped away, knocking her leg to the side. Her other high heel couldn't support the sudden shift in balance and she began to fall forward.

If Allen would have thought, he would have known better than to reach out and offer an arm to steady her. Odds were that she didn't even need his help. But he didn't. And the moment Miltiades refound her balance, Allen watched as his entire world flipped before coming to an abrupt stop when his back hit the floor.

"Oww...," Allen muttered, more out of instinct. He glanced up at Miltiades, who took out a napkin and wiped down her hand that she used to flip him as if she might catch peasantry from him. Once she was sure she wasn't at risk, she gave him a dull look that asked the question 'what did you expect?'

Letting out a sigh, Allen craned his neck and looked up at the one who opened the door. He had been expecting Junior since Miltiades was standing outside the door, but instead he saw a medical gown and floppy ears.

Wisely deciding not to admit that he had a decent view up her gown, Allen gave her a smile. "Yo! Heard you were up," he greeted with a little wave.

Amaranth looked down at him for a long moment before her eyes flickered to Miltiades. Some unspoken words passed between them but Allen didn't speak girl, so he didn't know what. However, based on the deadpan stare that Amaranth pinned on him, he was guessing that it was nothing good.

"You saved me," Amaranth said after a moment. There wasn't an ounce of gratitude in her voice. The sentence sounded more like an accusation.

"I did," Allen agreed easily enough, making no move to raise himself off the floor. The view was spectacular.

"I'm a faunus," she informed him and Allen simply rose an eyebrow in puzzlement.

"So you are," he agreed, confused why she was bringing up something so obvious. Then it clicked.

"Ohhhh...yeah, I honestly doubt that I could care less about you having bunny ears." He said with a lopsided grin. It was his first time encountering someone that was truly oppressed. Back on Earth, he always heard about it on the news or read stories on the internet, but he never witnessed it first hand.

If he did, Allen always like to think himself to be the guy that would stand up to the oppressor and let them know what a massive bellend they were being. It was one of those fantasies he entertained while he was supposed to be doing math.

What Amaranth thought of that, she kept hidden beneath a mask of neutrality. Even if she didn't, she wouldn't have gotten the chance to respond because Dew caught sight of her.

"Ahhhhh," Dew let out a surprised yell, startling everyone in the room. However, with a blur of white and green, Amaranth disappeared. Allen figured out where when he heard a stream of curses and thrashing in the room that Amaranth had just exited. With the view gone, Allen got up and peeked into the room.

Dew was standing over Amaranth, who was strapped down to the medical bed and she was letting him know exactly what she thought of that. Apparently they spoke a different language in Mistrel because half of what she was say was in English while the other half sounded...Greek? It sounded Greek but Allen knew next to nothing about other languages. Hell, some days his ability to speak English was questionable, at best. So it may, or may not, have been Greek.

"Let me go," Amaranth roared as she tried to sit up. The strap around her chest stopped her before she could raise an inch and when she tried to throw a punch at the green haired man, they were stopped cold. Her face was twisted into a snarl and Allen thought she looked more like a feral hound than she did a rabbit.

Dew pushed his comical glasses up, "no! A severe case of whiplash, a concussion, three fractured ribs, a bruised sternum, heavy bruising on your torso and internal bruising; these wounds don't disappear over night! I had to activate your aura just to keep you alive and I won't let you ruin all of my hard work because of your stubbornness! This is the third escape attempt from you in the three hours you've been awake and I'm not having it anymore!" Dew said loudly in one breath, talking over Amaranth as she protested that she felt fine and she could leave.

"You're not getting out of that bed until I say, young lady," he added before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sucker before holding it in front of Amaranth's face. "If you be good, I'll let you have this lollipop. It's cherry flavored," he added, attempting to bribe the drug dealer.

The glare she gave him was worthy of legends.

Dew frowned, clearly upset that his offer was rejected before he put it in his mouth and walked out the room with a huff.

Allen watched the man become a blur again as he checked on his numerous amounts of patients.

"Well, that was a thing," Allen commented and Amaranth turned her glare to him. Allen just grinned in response but he walked into the room, all the same, followed by Miltiades.

"Sorry about Dew, he's a little...," Allen gave Miltiades a glance, hoping for some help. After all, he only met the man twice and the first time was for half a second. The second was just now and they didn't say a word to each other; so, he wasn't the best suited to give a synopsis of Dew's character.

"Stupid," she finished for him and Allen just turned back to Amaranth. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.

"I was thinking overzealous, but whatever," Allen said with a shrug, deciding to not argue the point.

"I don't care. Undo these straps before I rip your di-" Amaranth spat at him but he held up a hand before she could finish her threat.

"Hey, no need for that," Allen quickly cut her off. This woman really went right for where a man values the most. "I'm here because my boss thought this would happen. I can get in contact with your family, so if you want, I could pass on a message. Preferably not a 'help, I'm being held against my will' one but..." Allen shrugged, letting her finish the thought.

Hopefully, she saw that Dew was helping her out even if she was too stubborn to admit it. He wanted that bonus objective and the best way to do that was to offer a gesture of good faith. In this case, a message from their rising star.

Amaranth gave him a long, soul-searching look. Allen looked right back, wondering what she was looking for. He had already made it clear that he didn't care about her heritage and he had even saved her life! You'd think that would earn him the benefit of the doubt.

Finally, she jerked her head, her ears flopping in defeat, "give me your scroll." she commanded and Allen took it out before placing it in one of her hands. Amaranth pressed the writer app and began awkwardly typing.

Allen caught a glimpse of it but he realized that he couldn't read a word of it. It was all written in a different language so any hope of being able to edit it in case it was a plea for help went down the drain. She wrote for a solid five minutes, no doubt cramming as much information as she could into the wall of text.

"I'm done," she informed, tapping out of the app after locking the message. She looked up at him, pinning him with another look that wasn't quite a glare but it wasn't gentile either. "The number is 381312123. The head of the family will speak to you, so be respectful and don't be provoked by whatever the head says. It won't end well for you if you do," she warned and Allen felt a little uneasy.

He knew better than to ask, but wasn't the Cinnabar family supposed to be small? And an ocean away? With those Grimm things separating them? Was she just trying to scare him into delivering the message?

"Will do," Allen said, committing the number to memory after hearing it once. That was a showing of his increased Intelligence because before she would have had to write it down for him.

"We're even now. I don't owe you a thing," she informed and Allen just rose an eyebrow, looking amused. People actually said stuff like that? He always just thought that only existed in bad fanfiction and B-class movies.

"You didn't owe me a thing in the first pace," Allen said dismissively, thinking he sounded rather cool. Knowing it was time to make his exit, he gave the bound woman a wink and a cheeky grin before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. The only thing ruining the moment was Miltiades's scoff that as accompanied by a roll of her eyes.

…

"Allen," Junior said, getting his attention before he walked through the doors to exit the Club. He looked over his shoulder and saw the larger man approaching him with two familiar bags in his hands.

"Catch," he ordered before tossing the bags with ease. Allen wished he had put more points in Strength because the heavy bags nearly knocked him over. He managed to keep his balance but it was a close call.

Allen looked down at the bag and he didn't need to open them to know what they contained. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Junior and he didn't hesitate to give him his orders.

"After you make contact with the Cinnabar family and clean up that mess, I want you to establish Focus into the drug trade. It'll be too much work to weed out all of the drug traders, so this should get some of them to bend the knee. The others will follow when they see we're the drug trade in Vale" Junior ordered and Allen shoved the bags into his inventory. However, for his own amusement, he made it look like he shoved them into his jacket pocket.

 **A quest has been created!**

 **Main Objective: establish a drug trade for Focus.**

 **Additional Objectives:**

 **(hidden)**

 **Rewards: Money (based on profit from trade.) increased influence.**

 **Failure: death.**

 **Refusals: decreased trust with Junior. No quests related to drugs.**

Allen barely glanced at the quest window, already having an idea what it said. It seemed that the failure and refusal consequences followed a trend. Death and loss of trust.

Allen added getting a good life insurance policy to his to do list.

"Consider it done," Allen said, accepting the quest. Junior shot him a tired grin.

"That's what I like to hear. I'll send you a data packet later after I confirm a few meetings. Later," he said goodbye as he turned around and waved over his shoulder, his scroll out and dialing the next call. Two goons nodded their heads at him, which he returned, before trailing after him.

Allen let out a soft sigh. Consider it done his arse; how was he supposed to establish a new drug in a country? How much were these stupid pills even worth? Allen ran his hand through his hair, knowing that he was going to get even more gray patches before the day was over, as he walked out the building into the sunny streets.

Unbuttoning his blazer, Allen opened up his scroll and memorized the route to the way station. Seeing that it wasn't too far away, he decided to walk instead of driving there. It defiantly wasn't because of his new found fear of cars. The bloody death traps.

As he walked through the streets, Allen took a moment to marvel at his surroundings. It was odd; despite the major turf war going on in the underworld or even the fact that two days ago every criminal in the city was tearing through the streets, Allen wouldn't be able to tell if he hadn't already known about it.

People went about their days like nothing was wrong. They chatted and argued as they walked the streets, mascots for various stores tried to convince those that passed by to enter their store. Everything seemed so normal. The only thing that even hinted that something might be wrong was that there was a police cruiser parked on every other street.

Allen gave a copper a smile as he walked by, which was returned with much less enthusiasm. Ahh...poor guy. If only he knew what was on his to do list for the day.

It didn't take too long for the way station to come into view. Allen hadn't known what he was expecting; despite the fact that he spent near three weeks on Remnant, he spent most of that indoors. The only times he hadn't was when he was walking to work, and when he was being chased through the city the other night.

However, Allen knew he wasn't expecting what he saw. The only way he could describe it was something that you only saw in high budget sci-fi movies. Everything was polished to such a shine that even the parts that weren't naturally reflective were twinkling in the morning sun. The grand arches of twisting steel made the entrance before they were pushed up by similar arches of metal. The glass doors reflected the marble floors and a large sign, proclaiming it's duty to the world, hung in official lettering.

It looked incredible and very expensive.

With the aid of Gamer Mind, Allen quickly snapped out of his awe a purchased a ticket. He was in luck because he caught the next flight and within a minute, he was sitting in the bullhead.

Allen looked around him in excitement. The interior of the bullhead was an odd mixture of the seating arrangement of a subway with the richness of first class of a plane. The seats were comfortable, the floors were clean and the windows were streak free. There was some room to walk, and poles if you wanted to stand, and a hologram thing at the center.

All in all, everything was very posh.

Allen felt the bullhead take off after everyone had been seated and the pilot made an announcement that they'll arrive at Beacon Academy in thirty minutes.

Hearing that, Allen frowned a bit. Unlike Earth, Remnant had opted against shooting a satellite into space and sending signals up to it so it could bounce it back down with great range. Instead, they went with a much simpler approach.

In Vale, there was a gigantic tower that served as a router. It sent out a signal that every scroll used to communicate with other scrolls in the country. For example; if Allen made a call to Junior, then is call would go through the tower before bouncing to Junior. In that sense, it was very much like a satellite, but the little Allen read gave the impression it had more in common with an internet router.

However, it also was Vale's only means of international communication. The tower just didn't have the range to reach the other kingdoms or the costs of having just one tower to cover the world was just asking for trouble. Instead, there was a similar tower in each kingdom and somewhere in the ocean, the signals overlapped each other. That enabled international communication.

That wasn't it only uses either. Everything was connected to the tower; scrolls, GPS, the internet and more. All of it used the tower to be broadcast across all of Vale.

Allen understood that bit. It was one of the few things he learned about when he was trying to figure out why his phone wouldn't work when he first arrived on Remnant.

What he didn't understand was why such an important building was found in the center of some school instead of a military bunker somewhere.

Deciding that the question bothered him just enough he had to get the answer to it, Allen took out his scroll and Doodled Beacon Academy. He clicked on the first link and was brought to the schools homepage and he saw the usual crap; bragging about how prestigious they were, how they only accepted the best of the best and all that jazz.

He was looking to see what the school specialized in. From what he was gathering, Beacon Academy was more of a University instead of a high school, despite the age of their starting year being seventeen. Since seventeen was also the age of adulthood, those that attended usually did so because of the merits it would carry over into their career choice.

After reading for a few short minutes, Allen saw what Beacon Academy specialized in was something called a Huntsman. Thinking that having a bunch of highly trained hunters for deer and the like make next to no sense, he clicked on the word and tapped the definition function.

Huntsmen- A male hunter that protects Remnant from the threat of the Grimm.

Allen's frown deepened as he read over the definition a second time. There was that word again. Grimm. With a sinking feeling, Allen used the same function on Grimm.

And he instantly regretted it.

Grimm- soulless monsters that have pushed Humanity to the brink of extinction. Appearances vary, but most are formed after animals found in the wild. While numerous, Huntsmen and Huntresses keep them at bay and protect the four kingdoms.

Allen read over the definition a second time, and then a third.

What the actual fuck? How? Why? Why was he reincarnated in a world that was suffering an Armageddon? Was this because of his luck stat? He hadn't remembered being this bloody unlucky when he was on Earth, but he clearly had been. This was bloody ridiculous!

Seeing that he certainly needed to learn more about these beasts, Allen began his search using Doodle. He learned that there were various species with various strengths and weaknesses. Like how these things called 'beowolves' were really weak, but they could cause some trouble when in a group. 'Ursai' were big and strong but really slow. However, as he read, he found something that was far more interesting.

Grimm were attracted to negative emotions. That fact was buried deep within the pages that he read, reduced to little more than a footnote.

With that little, seemingly insignificant, fact everything began to snap into place.

Suddenly, it became so very clear why the tower was located at Beacon.

Vale was forcing interaction between the citizens of Vale and the Huntsmen.

The tower was the only way you could interact with those outside of Vale. Meaning, that if a parent wanted to talk to their kid that was on vacation or something they had to come to Beacon. To get to Beacon, they would have to enter that very nice and expensive looking building and ride in this posh bullhead before arriving.

It was subtle, but there was propaganda there. Vale was forcing people to associate Beacon, or Huntsmen in general, with wealth. After all, who doesn't want to be rich?

Let's say that a family goes to Beacon to have a call with their eldest daughter and let's say that they had other kids. Naturally, those kids are going to come with them to talk to their older sister, whether they want to or not. Now let's say that there is a little boy among them at a very impressionable age. Five or so.

Now, most little boys liked stories. Most liked heroes; knights in a fantasy world or people rising to the occasion. If Remnant really was suffering an apocalypse, then it would stand that the stories that they told revolved around Huntsmen defeating the Grimm in epic ways. A Huntsman saves the kingdom and lives happily ever after with the love of his life; that sort of thing.

That little boy is chalk full of stories and fantasies about the Huntsmen and the Grimm that they defeat. Every night he gets a story about the Huntsmen and every night he dreams of himself defeating hordes of Grimm.

Then that little boy arrives at Beacon. Allen saw a picture on the home page so he had an idea of how impressive the place looked.

What do you think that little boy wants to be when he grows up?

A Huntsman.

He would want to be rich. He would want to get the girl and save the day. He would want to be a hero.

Vale was recruiting soldiers for humanities' defense without anyone being the wiser. They couldn't do it any other way either; if Grimm were attracted to negative emotions then enforcing a mass conscription or even mandatory military service would bite them in the arse. Few things made negative emotions arise quicker than making someone do something that they didn't want to do.

The propaganda didn't stop there either. Take what happened the other night for example; Vale engineered a story of success and actively suppressed any details of casualties or the like. Hell, that Gordon guy was getting a holiday because apparently it was all his idea and now crime rates are lower than they have ever been in Vale or any of the four kingdoms for that matter.

Ha.

The list went on and on. Allen doubted that he would ever know how deep it went. The only reason he was aware of it now was because he was an outsider looking in; he didn't have a life time of bullshit being shoved down his throat without him being any wiser.

"I wish I was anywhere else right now," Allen muttered to himself, just in time for the bullhead to jerk slightly as it touched down. While the war with Grimm had been at a stalemate for nearly a thousand years, Allen didn't like any of this one bit. Hopefully, nothing would happen and he could go about his business but the idea of a bunch of monsters suddenly attacking the city made a chill go down his spine.

Allen was torn between reluctant acceptance and screaming his frustrations to the world. Considering he was in a public setting, he decided on the former by telling himself empty reassurances. Nothing had happened in a thousand years, but with his eyes open to government censorship, Allen found little comfort in it.

Once he was given the okay, Allen stood and patiently waited for his turn to walk out the bullhead. It took a long minute, which by the end of he was cursing the manners that were instilled into him sine birth, he stepped out of the flying vehicle.

Allen let out a low appreciative whistle as he gazed up at the building. It looked like a perfect blend of a castle ripped out of a fantasy novel and futuristic. It stretched on for as far as the eye could see; marble pillars around artsy statues with lush green grass in between. A gray brick road lead to the entrance where it became more futuristic. Most notably were the tower that scraped the clouds with a giant green light that shone faintly, even in the morning sun.

"I see where the taxes are going to," Allen noted to himself before he stopped craning his head back to see the top of the tower. Instead, he turned to examine the area around him, enjoying the peaceful view as people chatted and Allen spotted several that wore a uniform.

Then he saw something that made no sense.

 **Glynda Goodwitch**

 **?**

 **The Stick**

Allen's eyes lingered on the question marks for a moment, pausing mid-step as he stared. Recalling his gaming knowledge, Allen knew that '?' meant that at the very least she was fifty levels above him...and, Allen had the feeling that she was much more than just fifty levels above him.

Her eyes darted to him, making eye contact for the briefest moment before Allen promptly turned on his heel and began walking the opposite direction.

Nope. Fuck that.

He didn't even care that he was walking in the wrong direction. So long as he was away from her, Allen was happy. Sheesh, and he thought the Malachite sisters could have killed him on accident. He was half shocked that that look of hers hadn't knocked off any points of health.

Allen summoned his mini-map as he looked for another route to his way point. Finding one, he hoped that he didn't run into that woman again and began walking the long way to the communication tower. He would have to cut through some places he was fairly certain he wasn't allowed to but he could play it off as if he was lost and too embarrassed to ask for directions.

Slowly, the crowd of citizens became thinner and thinner until Allen found himself walking alone in a hallway. When he first entered the hallway, his dress shoes seemed to echo throughout the entire building and that made him nervous. Even though it was nothing but nerves, Allen tried to walk quietly through the building.

Through a special action, a skill has been created!

 **Sneak Lvl 1 Exp: 0%- going unnoticed when you do not wish to be seen.**

Allen read the skill over, nodding to himself. So that was a skill too, huh? Considering his job, Allen figured he should work on that one. Though, how would he? Just start stalking around The Club and trying to go unnoticed? Did he get more Exp for going unnoticed or was it just the effort that counted? If he started sneaking when someone knew he was there, would he get Exp?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, trying to figure out how he was going to grind this new skill, that he turned a corner without looking and walked right into someone.

Thanks to his dexterity, Allen managed to right himself before he fell over, but who he ran into hadn't been so lucky. Books clattered onto the floor as the girl struggled to keep the tower of them in her hands from falling over. She succeeded, only a few fell before she regained her balance and it was only then did Allen realize that they had been stacked so tall they covered her face.

She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, and Allen couldn't help but think that she looked like a scared rabbit. A thought that was reinforced when he noticed the brown rabbit ears that were flopped over as if she was trying to hide them against her brown hair.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered out, her eyes darting to the floor as she turned red with embarrassment. She withdrew into herself, trying to disappear. Allen noticed that she had an accent, though her voice was so soft and quite that he couldn't place it.

Allen was a little taken back by her reaction. Was she just that shy or did he seem like the kind of guy to bite her head off?

"No, this is on me. I wasn't paying attention where I was going," he said as he leaned down to pick the books up. He scooped them up with ease and he certainly did not glance at her totally fit legs as he did so. He was a proper English gentleman, dammit.

When he raised back up, the books held out, only then did he notice the words and numbers hanging over her head.

 **Velvet Scarlatina**

 **30**

 **Wallflower**

...You know, he was glad that the last bastions of humanity were being protected by those that could wipe the floor with him on a bad day. If Grimm were half the monsters Allen feared them to be, it could only be a good thing that Huntsmen and Huntresses were so strong. Odds were there were those that were even stronger than Velvet in this school.

It was just so jarring to see. Before now, Miltiades and Melanie were the strongest people he knew based purely on their levels. Not counting Junior, Allen didn't know anyone else that even broke through the twenties and yet in the past ten minutes, he's seen a woman so much stronger than him he couldn't even see her level and now Velvet had a few levels on them.

He should have known better. The world was a big place and it only made sense that two bodyguards for a criminal overlord weren't the strongest people in the world.

"Do you have a problem?" A feminine voice demanded to know from behind him. Glancing over as he swallowed his heart, he saw it was a girl that barely reached his shoulder. She wore a modified version of Beacon's uniform-so many laces-and her her brown shoulder length brown hair was put up in a french braid thing before being coiled into a bun. Allen didn't even know how much time it took to accomplish that.

 **Coco Adel**

 **32**

 **Fashion Goddess**

Considering the situation, Allen felt a knot of tension form in between his shoulders but he plastered a smile on his face all the same.

"I don't, but the sounds of it, you have a problem with me," he pointed out. Coco narrowed her eyes in response, her hand dipping down to her designer handbag. On a hunch, Allen used Observe on it.

 **Handbag mini-gun- capable of shooting 8000 bullets a minute. Crafted by Coco Adel in her final year at Signal.**

 **Observe had leveled up!**

Allen ignored that observe had leveled up in favor of suppressing the mini panic attack he was having. That handbag was a whole lot of No as far as he was concerned. 8000 bullets a minute? Nope. It's official, this school terrified him along with everyone in it.

"You were gawking at my teammate. Never seen a faunus before?" Coco demanded in a sharp tone and Allen quickly realized what she thought was going on. Allen glanced back over at Velvet, who was turning an impressive red in mortification but she couldn't bring herself to protest. Her mouth just opened and closed as she fidgeted on the stop, torn between action and fleeing for the hills.

Not getting any help on her end, Allen turned back to Coco with a grin on his face. He needed to disarm this situation and fast before it ended with him being a stain on the ground.

"Of course, I have, but she's beautiful and I'm an awkward bundle of hormones know as the teenage boy. Couldn't help myself, I'm afraid," Allen said, thickening his accent and grinning bashfully.

"Uhhh," Coco started, visibly deflating as Velvet let out something between a gasp and squeak of pure terror.

She hadn't expected that in the slightest. After a few weeks of being on team CFVY, one of her biggest priorities was bringing Velvet out of her shell. Coco didn't know the girl well, not yet, but she was willing to go out on a limb and say she had been discriminated against due to her ears.

Coco wanted Velvet to know that she could trust her, that she didn't care that she was a faunus. Only that she was her teammate. From past experience, she knew the best way to do that was to stand up for her when she was too timid to do it herself.

When some oddly colored haired punk in a suit started staring at her, she saw a perfect opportunity.

Allen gave her a grin, letting her know that he understood before he looked at Velvet. She must have seen the movement because she glanced up again and managed to keep eye contact with him for a moment. Just enough time for him to say his piece.

"I don't know what you've been though and I've never been discriminated against, so I'm not going to talk out my arse and say everything will be all sun shine and rainbows. I don't know that. I do know though, is that if someone can't see past your ears than they aren't worth wasting your time with. Words are just words and they can only hurt you as much as you let them. So, take a little pride in the badass you are, say fuck the haters and do what you do," he said and Velvet seemed taken back by the sudden encouragement.

Allen didn't really know where that came from but he meant every word. He learned a long time ago that words were just noises that people assigned meaning to. If you didn't let them hurt you then they could say whatever they liked because it didn't matter at all.

It was because of that lesson he learned when he was a child that Miltiades and Melanie could say whatever they liked. Words were just words.

Silence reigned for a moment and Allen decided it would be best if he split before they could recover. They might ask who he was, or what he was doing here and while he had answers, it was best to avoid that if he could.

"Ladies," he said before he walked away, passing the books to Coco as he did. The girl looked at him blankly as he made his strategic retreat. A swell of manly pride entered his chest when he could feel their eyes on his back. He thought he pulled that off rather nicely.

Once he was sure that there was some distance between them, Allen began doing that fast walking thing through the last stretch of the hallway. He did not want to have any more encounters with people that could squish him like a bug.

Allen found the communication tower after a few minutes and with the help of his mini map. It stretched into the sky and Allen couldn't see the top even if he craned his neck back. Two guardsmen stood at the door, standing imposingly with guns in hand. They didn't return his smile as he passed them.

Allen passed through the doors and admired the architecture. The room was large, huge even with a tall ceiling. The roomed was filled with chatter as teens chatted with friends and parents talked to their kids. They all sat in front of little computer screens with little dividers for some privacy.

Deciding that the conversation he was about to have wasn't meant for other ears, he approached the reception desk.

"Hello, I was hoping you have a private room available," he asked, throwing on what he hoped was a charming smile as he leaned on the desk. The receptionist put on a smile but Allen quickly got the impression that flirting wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"We don't have any available at the moment. You'll have to wait until one opens up." She said in a painfully fake friendly tone as she glanced back at her computer. He saw it was a game of Tetris from the reflection of a metal drawer.

"When will that be?" Allen asked feeling a little annoyed but he understood. People were stupid and having to deal with them all day sounded awful. He couldn't blame her for wanting to get back to her game instead of helping him.

Didn't mean he didn't find that inconvenient. And rude.

"Thirty minutes," she answered without glancing at any kind of scheduling. "I can take your name and notify you when one opens," she continued, flashing him a perfected polite smile. The perfect blend of, 'I'm sorry I can't help more' and 'Yelling at me won't accomplish anything.' Very impressive.

"Allen Walker," Allen said in a resigned tone, thinking that Junior wouldn't be happy about the holdup. He'll send him a message while he waited, just in case something came up.

Surprising Allen greatly, the woman's smile fell and was replaced by a look of pure, utter terror.

"Uhh," Allen started, a loss for words as the woman struggled to control her expression. He took a step back, giving her some room as he held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. What could he even say to this? How in the hell was he even remotely this scary? When he looked into the mirror this morning he saw his not-so-ugly mug, not the devil.

Velvet had been afraid of him but she had reason to be since he was a human. That and she was incredibly shy. This...this just made no sense. What about him deserved this kind of reaction?

Thankfully, the woman didn't scream bloody murder and schooled her expression. Allen wouldn't have know anything was wrong if it weren't for the occasional lip quiver and the ghastly white tone her skin had taken.

"I-I," the woman began before stopping. She took a moment to compose her speech and looked like she swallowed her heart. "I'm so terribly sorry sir. I-I didn't know it was you. I'll have the room readied in just a moment," she continued and Allen could only stare dumbly as she grabbed the scroll and typed into it with trembling fingers and white knuckles.

'She is afraid of me,' Allen thought to himself dumbly, what just happened finally sinking in. This woman was so afraid of him that she nearly wet herself in terror once she heard his name.

Allen knew it was likely because he was connected to The Gang, but that reaction was undeserved. He hadn't even been a member for more than two days and there was no way that the rumor mill had spun what happened on his first job into some kind of horror story yet. What was going on?

"The room has been prepared for you, sir. It was searched two hours ago for bugs and the recording function is disabled. The room number is 616," She said after a few short moments. She dared to glance at him but when their eye's made contact, hers darted to the desk.

"Why are you so scared of me?" Allen couldn't stop himself from asking nor could he bring himself to ask the question in a less blunt manner.

Allen loved being respected. As a teenager, there had been few opportunities, and even fewer reasons, for him to be respected for anything. So, when the dance floor had parted, Allen had been ecstatic. It was a new and wonderful feeling.

This...this wasn't respect. He didn't like this at all.

The woman sucked in a breath before her eye darted back up hesitantly. She paused a long moment, carefully considering her words as if her life was on the line. She probably thought that it was.

"My b-brother works for you, sir. He told me that the news lied and every gang in Vale is in jail, or d-dead, because you want them to be, sir. I...I thought y-you'd be...u-upset that I wasn't..." she trailed off, swallowing thickly and Allen could only let out a breath that sounded exhausted to his own ears.

He rubbed his eyes, reflecting on that before he stopped and glanced up at the woman's name. Rosa Blau. He memorized it before looking back at her with what he hoped was a reassuring grin.

Allen had no clue who she was talking about. Not the slightest idea of who her brother could be that worked for him. she was too terrified of him to dare to. He couldn't recall seeing anyone with a name similar to hers hanging above their head. He didn't think that she was lying,

Which meant that he didn't know because he hadn't bothered to learn his name. As Allen stood there, he realized that he didn't know anyone that worked underneath him. To him, until that very moment, they had simply been Junior's goons. A bunch of similarly dressed men that Junior bossed and yelled at when they messed something up. To him, they were a bunch of faceless, nameless drones that he couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge.

Allen didn't even learn the name of the bodyguard that had accompanied him.

'I need to work on that,' Allen decided. He refused to be that wanker of a boss.

"Sorry I gave you such a fright. I'll get out your hair now, thanks," he said and Rosa looked taken back, clearly not expecting that, before he turned around and opened up his mini-map with a mental command. Even as he felt her eyes boring holes into his back, Allen couldn't help but to think that his map function was rapidly becoming his favorite.

As he disappeared around a corner, Allen rubbed his temple as he let out a breath. That conversation felt like it had sucked up all the energy out of him. A quick glance at his scroll told him that it wasn't even noon yet...and there was still so much to do on his chore list.

Reaching room 616, Allen rolled his shoulders and started to prepare himself for what was about to happen. Twisting the handle, he opened the door and saw that the room resembled an office more than a VIP room, like he had been expecting. A monitor placed on top a desk and a well worn chair in front of it. The walls were a white with a twinge of yellow and a nondescript painting hung on it to give it a little personality.

All in all, it was very dull.

Taking another breath he strode across the room after locking the door before sitting down. How did he play this? A smooth criminal? Himself? He wanted that bonus objective, if only because having a criminal family after his head didn't sound appealing in the slightest.

Allen pressed the on button on the monitor and blinked as a pop up appeared.

 **Computer Mastery Lvl 1 Exp: 0%- performance with all functions of a computer.**

That was one of the easier skills he created. It said Mastery, so Allen was going to assume that other computer based skills would count towards this one. Things like hacking and knowing what a floppy disk was. It seemed like an interesting skill, so Allen added it to the mental to-do list he was keeping in the back of his mind.

Though, it was getting rather long. There just weren't enough hours in the day, it seemed.

Closing his eye for a brief moment, he steadied himself and ran his hand through his hair, hopefully getting it in order but he had the sinking feeling that he just made it worse. He tapped the number pad on the screen, entering the number Amaranth had given him and as he came closer to the end, his suit was suddenly feeling a lot less comfortable. Nevertheless, he pressed enter before hearing a ringing noise.

It had barely finished the first ring before a man's face suddenly appeared on screen. He had olive colored skin with reddish brown hair and a long scar that started near the center of his forehead, clipped his eyebrow and took off a part of his ear. The man looked excited for a brief moment before he realized that Allen wasn't who he thought it was.

The excitement was quick to leave his expression.

"Poios sto diáolo eísai esý?" The man demanded in an angry tone but Allen couldn't answer because he had no clue what he said. Remembering something convenient, Allen quickly summoned his Options screen underneath the table and flipped on subtitles.

[Who the hell are you?] A little box underneath the man appeared and Allen idly noted that he couldn't see his name hovering over his head. Seemed that his ability didn't work through screens.

Allen suppressed a smile before he realized while he could understand the man, the man couldn't understand him. That was made very clear when he let out a long stream of curses when Allen failed to answer immediately.

Instead, Allen took out his scroll and inserted it into the port on the side of the monitor. He summoned the message Amaranth wrote and sent the message. A ping was heard as it went through and the man read it, his brow furrowing as he did so. A minute later of Allen doing his best to ignore his anxiety of the entire situation, the man looked up at him with a withering look.

Before Allen could even say anything, or ask what that was for, the man moved his hand and a new screen appeared. It was the one that showed up when Allen was making a call on his scroll, though instead of a picture of who it was, there was only the black outline of a person.

"Hello, Mr. Walker," a voice greeted through the speakers and Allen tensed at the sound of his last name. That was the provocation. It had to be. If their line wasn't secure, or if his room wasn't, then whoever was listening had a name attached to the conversation.

'I gave my name to the receptionist,' Allen felt like cursing up a storm. That was a very stupid mistake, a very, very, very stupid mistake. She seemed too afraid of him to give him up, or even alert the police, but Allen needed to know nothing would come of it. After this, he needed to call Junior and find out how trust worthy and thorough the room had been scrubbed.

Allen kept his face blank, though it was a struggle. Instead, he clenched his hands into a fist and squeezed. He just landed himself into a potential mess. A big potential mess.

Despite feeling utterly out of his depth, Allen couldn't help but to think that this reminded him of several spy movies. He needed to act like something and with the ball of knots that was his stomach, himself didn't seem like a good idea.

"Greetings. I hope you found the message from out guest reassuring," Allen said, trying to replicate what he had seen in the movies. However, he nearly grimaced as it felt like he was trying too hard and like he was a child playing grown up.

"I did. I owe you many thanks for what you've done for her. She's our best and brightest, it would have been very inconvenient if she had perished." the voice chuckled and Allen resisted the urge to flinch at it. The voice was warped to hide the gender of the speaker and while doing so, it sounded very creepy.

"For this, should you ever find yourself in Mistrel, you will be welcomed as a friend by the Family." The voice continued and Allen felt his fraying nerves be soothed at the words. That was a good sign, right? Welcomed as a friend could only mean good things, right?

"Thank you," Allen said simply, not knowing what else to add to that.

"Speaking of your guest, it states in her message that she's being held against her will." The voice said, suddenly sounding a lot less friendly.

Dammit Dew.

"By our doctor. From what I know, she suffered internal injuries bad enough that her aura had to be activated just to save her life," Allen was quick to clear up that misunderstanding. The words fell out of his mouth as he grasped at not-so distant memories of a few hours before.

"Also, our doctor takes his duties very seriously. He won't allow her to leave until he gives her a clean bill of health. It's well outside our power to do anything about it," Allen continued, thinking that had to be the case. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't.

"I see," the voice said before pausing and Allen felt a familiar knot of tension form between his shoulders.

"Then I suppose it can't be helped," the voice continued before Allen saw he had a new message on his scroll. "I've sent your guest her new orders. With your permission, I ask that you take care of her until she is properly healed. In exchange, she will offer her expertise in distributing the product that is now in your hands," the voice said and Allen felt a surge of relief. Allen was painfully aware of the fact he had no idea what he was doing. If there was a Bullshitting skill, then it'd be maxed out by now. He could use all the help he could get.

"Thank you. She'll be a great help, I'm sure of it," he added politely, feeling the conversation wrapping up. There wasn't anything else for them to talk about.

"I'm sure she will be Mr. Walker...however, before this conservation ends, I would have you indulge me with an answer. I've used a few favors to learn more about you once I heard your name and what you've done. Yet, all of my contacts gave me nothing." The voice explained and Allen sat a little straighter, trying to feel like an adult despite how much of a child he was.

"Who are you?"

The question was simple.

"A fool."

So was the answer.

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave a review telling me what you think; I can hardly improve if I don't know what I'm doing wrong.**


	6. The End of a Long Day

**This chapter fought me every step of the way. I think I've re-written most of it at least twice and scrapped two scenes and some lines of dialog because of how bad it was when I was just forcing myself to write. I had really big plans for this chapter, but for whatever reason, I just could get the words on paper so I changed a lot of it up.**

 **What I ended up with is alright but I think I'm going to go back and edit this chapter at a later date.**

 **In other news, I have another story posted called New Game. It's a Game of Thrones Gamer OC story starring a future version of Allen that I ruled out as a possibility, so you don't have to worry about spoilers or anything. So, please give it a look and tell me what you think!**

"Glad that's over with," Allen muttered to himself as he buttoned his blazer. How did the middle management overlords deal with this? Talking to the 'CEO' of a 'company' was nerve racking in ways he hadn't thought possible. Sure, he had bosses before, and it had been intimidating meeting them for the first time but it had nothing on this.

"It's probably because they'd kill me if I pissed them off," Allen mused to himself aloud. The Cinnabar family may not have a long arm, but they were just a pho-scroll call away from someone that he was in reach of.

Though, all the stress aside, Allen thought it went well. The mystery voice, which Allen was going to assume was the head of the criminal family, said that he would be welcomed if he ever found himself in their country. He even managed to sound like a total badass at the end of the call!

Smiling smugly, Allen pulled out his scroll and typed out a quick report of what happened and the results of it. As an afterthought, he began typing out that the receptionist knew his face and his name before his thumb hovered over the send button.

Was he just being paranoid? While she had his name and there was always the chance a bug had been missed or purposely overlooked, Allen was hesitating sending the message. Was this just a case of rookie nerves at play? He didn't think so...

No. No, he had reason to be concerned. His name was attached to a suspicious call; thankfully, the head of the Cinnabar family hadn't dropped the name of the product or who he saved, but replaying the conversation in his head, Allen couldn't help but think that it painted him in a bad light. If he was placed in front of a jury and that conversation was entered in as evidence, it may not be the piece that slammed prison doors but it would open them up for him to walk through.

Why was he hesitating then? He should be talking to Junior right now about if he had anything to worry about instead of standing there being a nervous wreck. He could go to prison! Jail! The slammer! The Pen house! Other names for the worst place on Remnant.

This was his life, why was he waiting?

His thumb inched forward before he frowned. The memory of Junior dragging his thumb across his neck as he carelessly dismissed the death, the murder, of Azure surfaced and Allen jaw clenched. All too clearly did he remember that Junior was willing to kill those that got in his way. He was dead because he was an annoyance.

Then he recalled just how terrified Rosa had looked when he said his name. How hard she struggled to keep her expression schooled.

Would she be killed? Allen didn't know; it was entirely possible that he was just over thinking this, but he didn't trust how secure that room was. Not enough to gamble his future. At the same time, he didn't want that woman in a life or death situation because Junior figured better safe than sorry.

A muscle spasmed in Allen jaw before he deleted the second half of the message. Once there was only the report about what happened with the head of the family, Allen pressed send before he could think better of it.

He let out a breath and squared his shoulders as he walked towards the bullhead. He would deal with it on his own and if he thought he needed to, he would ask Melanie or her sister. Allen wasn't going to run the risk of someone just doing their job getting killed because he was paranoid.

It was when he sat down on the bullhead that his scroll vibrated with a message from Junior.

Good work. Come back to the club, I've confirmed a few meetings and you need to briefed. J.

Allen nodded to himself as he walked on to the bullhead. He waited a moment before the window that he expected appeared as he took his seat.

 **Quest complete!**

 **Main Objective: make contact with Cinnabar family.**

 **Additional Objective: Make a good impression.**

 **Rewards: Increased trust with Junior. 500 Exp.**

 **Additional Reward: Tab Connections. Favor of the Cinnabar family.**

There it is! After quickly reading through it all, feeling a little smug that he managed to pull off getting the additional objective. The head of the Cinnabar ended the call right after that once whoever they were realized that they weren't going to get a straight answer out of him. That might have been what impressed them because Allen doubted he seemed very impressive before that.

With a mental command, he summoned his new window. To his surprise, it wasn't a list but a map of all of Remnant. What he did expect, however, was that almost all of the map was blacked out. He was going out on a limb and going to say that represented the Grimm.

After taking out his scroll and pulling up one of the games, he lined it up with the new window and tapped the country that he was sure wasn't Vale. The map zoomed in on the city state and a list appeared on the side. Since he only knew the Cinnabar family in Mistrel, they were at the top of the list and the only spec of color on the map. Everything else was grayed out.

The color represented the Cinnabar influence in the city state. A light brown color that he guessed was the color cinnabar; it wasn't very big but if he was reading the map right, it was growing fairly quickly. There were a bunch of numbers, and they were green, so he was guessing that was good. Apparently, he wasn't smart enough to understand this nonsense with just a glance.

Out of curiosity, he pressed the source of the influence and another list popped up. This time, is was a list of names...well, a list of ? and a few names on that list. As in two.

 **Amaranth Cinnabar. Trust rank: Like. Trust needed for next rank of Fond: 300/500**

 **Head of Cinnabar family. Trust rank: Neutral. Trust needed for next rank of Like: 100/250.**

Hmmm...Allen didn't know what that meant. Where exactly did 'Like' rank on the level of trust? Was he close to maxing it out? Was he almost friends with them?

He clicked the rank and another list popped into existence.

 **Enemy**

 **Extreme dislike**

 **Dislike**

 **Annoying**

 **Neutral**

 **Like**

 **Fond**

 **Trustworthy**

 **Friend**

 **-additional rank (potential love interest)- determined by a variety of factors including; attractiveness, personality, desired traits, prior interactions, and opinions. Is possible to skip all ranks if requirements are met.**

Huh. That was interesting. Quickly backing out, he taped on Vale to find out where he stood with Junior and the sisters but he paused when he saw the map. A large portion of it was covered in a deep red that was slowly growing. Comparing the rates of growth to the Cinnabar family, The Gang was growing more than three times faster. Unlike Mistrel, the colors that represented various gangs were present. However, all of the colors were clashing together and making the map a mess. The deep red was infecting all of the map, turning the blues and yellows reddish.

It was to be expected, he guessed. The Gang was expanding rapidly, it was just something else seeing it.

Pushing pass his surprise, he tapped the source of the red and tapped on Junior's name.

 **Hei Xiong 'Junior.' Trust rank: Fond. Trust needed for next rank of Trustworthy: 600/750.**

That wasn't too bad, but Allen thought he would be higher. Junior seemed...hmm...he was going to say fond of him, so maybe it was right. Either way, he needed it to be higher, trustworthy at the least. Maybe then he could stop worrying about what Junior would do if he found out his true origins or the extent of his abilities.

Making a mental note to do whatever it took to gain more trust, Allen pressed on Melanie.

 **Melanie Malachite. Trust rank: Annoying. Trust needed for next rank of Neutral: -200/0**

Now wasn't that a shock, Melanie only thought he was annoying! After the royal beat down that she gave him this morning, he figured that he would be hovering around Dislike, or below, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that it wasn't that bad. Who knows, now that he knew where he stood with her, maybe he could work on earning a little more trust and bump himself up to neutral.

Allen didn't girls very well, so it was a victory in his book.

Then he pressed Miltiades.

 **Miltiades Malachite. Trust rank: Potential Love Interest. Trust needed until next rank of love interest: -/+1000.**

…

…

…

Ah...it's broken. Well, shit, what was he supposed to do about this? Where was tech support? He doubted that there was a number he could call...maybe shout to the heavens to whichever arsehole of a deity inhabited that blue sky for him, or her, to fix his malfunctioning soul? Allen didn't know anything about his ability, much less how to trouble shoot an obvious malfunction.

He dismissed the window, deciding that time was the best cure to this problem. Allen would give it a second look once it wasn't broken and spewing nonsense.

A few minutes later, after playing a game that was startlingly similar to floppy bird on his scroll, he arrived back in Vale. Allen glanced at a clock and saw it was nearing noon and he repressed a sigh, today was just dragging its feet.

However, knowing that Junior wanted him back ASAP, he ignored his mental fatigue and began walking back to the Club. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame it against the wind that was blowing in his face before he gave up and just let his hair flap wildly in the wind. Allen quickly became very conscious of it and a glance in a window told him that he looked like an idiot, so he turned off into an alleyway to break up the wind.

To his shock, he recognized it.

"This is where it all began, huh?" He mused to himself, spinning on his heel to survey all of the alleyway. There wasn't anything special about it at all, which he felt a pang of disappointment at. This was the alleyway that his life went off the rails and exploded in a most spectacular fashion, so he expected something a little...more.

There wasn't. Just another alley in a city full of them. Dirty pavement, a dumpster that was overfull, graffiti on the walls that marked it a dozen different gangs territory. If anything, this one was on tier lower end of quality alleyways. He wouldn't walk down this one at night, that much was certain. He could be mugged or something.

It was as he completed his spin, shaking his head to himself and feeling a little bit silly for being sentimental, that he noticed something. Something a little different than every other alley.

Taking a step back, he admired what he was seeing. It was vastly different than the crude words in artsy writing, or the simple shapes that represented a gang. It was almost beautiful with how intricate it was. It incorporated all the other gang signs while using a blood red paint to give it shape and marking it out from the rest of the chaos.

It was a flower. A...tulip...? No...no, Allen knew he's seen it before but he was struggling to recall the name of it.

Ah...it was a spider lily!

"It's pretty," Allen decided before he pulled out his scroll and snapped off a quick picture. Satisfied with it, he gave the work one last long glance before he had to tear his eyes away from it. As he walked down the alley, he idly wondered what the flower symbolized. Roses were for love, Orchids for purity, Wallflowers for bashfulness.

He decided to keep to the alleyways because of the wind and it was when he was near the Club that he ran into someone else for the first time.

It was three people. Two men and one old man. However, Allen noticed immediately that they weren't having a pleasant conversation. The old man was on the ground, looking afraid and the two men stood over him. Both of them were tall, a full head taller than Allen and they towered over the knocked over the man as they stared down at him with eyes hidden behind glasses.

He doubted that they were offering to help him up.

"I'm sorry...! I don't have the money, I-" The old man was silenced when one of the men uncrossed his arms.

"Save it. I don't want to hear excuses. I want the money you owe us for the privilege of not having your store go up in flames," one of them snapped at him and the old man went white.

Allen frowned as his pace slowed, trying to buy himself time to think as his mind raced. He hadn't expected to run into this kind of scene in the alleyway. He glanced behind him, wondering if it was too late to walk the opposite direction. When he looked back forward, the look out made eye contact with him.

A beat passed.

The man nodded at him, paying his respects to his boss. Allen paused a moment before he returned the gesture as he walked forward.

These guys worked for Junior...they worked for him.

So...Allen walked right by them.

What was he going to do? Stop them? Beat them up? For bullying an old shop owner that was too broke to pay his protection money?

Never in his life would he ever have thought he would just walk by someone in that situation but what could he do? They worked for Junior. They were criminals, just as he was. Even if he did beat them up, rescue the poor, defenseless man, then how would he explain that to Junior? He had a guilty conscious right before he introduced a new drug to the country?

Ignoring how pissed Junior would be, how many problems that it would make for him, what would be the point? The man didn't have the money or he was willing to be beaten to a pulp to keep the little that he had. If Allen stopped these guys, then how long would it be before Junior sent other goons to get his dues? The next guys might be worse than the ones now. They might be annoyed at all the trouble they had to go through and they might take that out on the old man.

Ignoring them was the best thing he could do for himself. Turned his head in the other direction and pretend he wasn't seeing it. Out of sight, out of mind.

'Dad would be disappointed,' the thought struck him like a fist to the gut. The beating that he received at the feet of Melanie was nothing in comparison. The thought stopped him dead in his tracks and his heart clenched like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed it.

Allen's dad would be so disappointed in him. At the life he's chosen, for what he had done and what he was going to do. He wouldn't say it. Allen knew his father well enough to know that he would never say that. Instead, he would look at him with those eyes that told him that he expected better, more.

Allen took in a breath and looked up at the blue sky to see a cloud pass over the sun, dimming the light around him. That look was more than enough to tell Allen that he had royally mucked it up. He closed his eyes and a moment later he felt the sun's rays on his face and he let the breath out slowly.

He would never see his father again nor his sister. After so much time and how he left his world, they would think that he was dead. They might have already had the funeral. Hopefully, they did. Otherwise, they would sit around the kitchen table in the vain hope that he would return to them.

Yet, even though Allen would never see his family again, he just couldn't do it. He had to cling to something that was him and not the criminal he was becoming. The criminal that he was. He knew he was in too deep to leave and...Allen didn't want to. Not really. The money, the power, the respect...

Allen was changing. Both physically and mentally. However, he was going to make sure that some things stayed the same. It was stupid and greedy thinking he could have the best of both worlds but Allen was both stupid and greedy, so he was going to try.

He turned around and the look out stood to attention, grabbing the other thug and stopped him before he could kick the old man again. All three of them looked at him, waiting to see what he would do.

Allen walked right past the guard and stood in front of the old man. He glanced up at the information hanging over his head and saw that his name was Li Jie. When he looked down, he saw that the man's eyes were little more than slits, looking like a stereotypical cartoon character that he expected to see in the sixties, though Allen couldn't tell if that was because of swelling or it was natural. He hoped it was natural.

Crouching down so he was at eye-level, he spoke. "Why couldn't you pay?" He asked simply, trying to make his voice neutral as possible. Comforting wouldn't do anything. Not when he was clearly the thugs' boss.

"T-the Blackgaters already collected a few days ago for the month. I don't have anything to pay you with," Li Jie said with surprising nerve. Perhaps it was because of Allen's age, but he wasn't acting like he was an old man that was being abused in an alleyway like he was a minute ago. Allen was glad for it.

"How much do you owe?" Allen asked, thinking that made sense. In every single movie that he's ever seen, the thugs that collect protection money always asked for gouging prices. If he just paid for the month, then there was no way he could afford it. Not without taking out a loan and that opened up a whole extra can of worms. Depending on who he took a loan from, it could be more costly than getting a beating now.

"Three thousand lien," the old man answered. Allen blinked, looking faintly surprised.

"Uhh, that seems a bit steep," Allen commented and Li Jie looked at him with disbelief for a long moment. His eyes opened a fraction and Allen saw that they were green. They seemed to search his soul for something; for what, Allen didn't know. Whatever it was, he seemed to found it because he let out a huff that could have been interpreted as a laugh.

"I own Dust 'Till Dawn and a noodle stand in the market district. So, I have to pay for them both and they do well, so I have to pay more," he explained and Allen wrinkled his nose. That was still 1500 lien a month for each shop. No wonder he was scraping by.

"That still seems steep, but whatever," he said to himself before he reached into his blazer pocket and took out a black lien. With a mental command as he took it out of his inventory, he put three thousand lien on it before tossing it up to the lookout. A quick glance at the man's name, and he was stunned to see that this guy was the brother to the receptionist. Perie Blau.

Li Jie looked at him with utter shock and Allen gave him a crooked grin as he rose.

"I'm guessing that you aren't the only one in the predicament?" He asked and Li Jie just nodded his head dumbly in response. He could barely believe it. The child before him was a criminal, yet he just showed him the most generosity he had ever seen, let alone experienced. He didn't know him, never spoke to him, and with that odd hair of his, Li Jie even doubted that they've even seen each other.

Yet, he stopped his beating. Then he pays for his protection money with no thought of a reward, knowing that there couldn't be one.

Allen took out a slip of paper and wrote down his scroll number before handing it over to the man, who looked at it numbly. "Find out everyone that's already paid and send me their names. This month is on me," he informed and Li Jie's jaw dropped. He tried to close, to say something, to offer some form of thanks but...he could only stare in muted amazement as the teenager gave him a grin.

"Now, you two," he said, turning his attention to the goons. They snapped to attention, feeling incredibly awkward after seeing that. They braced themselves for a chewing but instead Allen gave them a tired wave.

"I'm heading back to The Club. Feel free to join me, I hear crime rates are going up," he commented before turning to walk out the alleyway. As Allen neared the exit, he couldn't stop himself from glancing over his shoulder. It was then that he saw that Li Jie had tears streaming down his face as he loosely clutched the scrap of paper in his hands.

Allen smiled a rueful smile to himself as the goons began making idle chatter. However, he wasn't listening.

In the end, Allen knew that this gesture of kindness was meaningless. He was a criminal and a high ranking one at that. His first week wasn't even though and he was already dipping his feet into the drug trade. Who knows what next week had for him.

Allen was changing. He knew that. He couldn't ignore it even if he wanted to. He also knew that he wasn't changing for the better.

How much would this effect is bank account? Would he only have three million lien? Yet that man was going to be struggling to scrape by when next month comes around. He might get that beating anyway if he was short. What of the others? He might be paying for those that already paid for the Blackgaters but what of the others that paid to one of the countless other gangs? Odds were they were getting beaten right now.

That gesture of kindness was utterly meaningless in the long run. Nothing would change because of it. Allen knew that. He was smart enough and wise enough to see that painful truth.

However, he nurtured that swell of pride at what he had done. His dad and sister would be proud of him at this moment.

Allen hoped it would be enough to remind him that he wasn't a horrible person after what he was about to do.

...

"Allen! Good work with the Cinnabar family," Junior greeted as Allen walked into his office. He just smiled and nodded his thanks before he took a chair across from the older man. He barely noticed the rocket launcher next to him, though he did note that it was in the shape of a...bat?

'I'm just seeing things,' Allen decided. The stress was just getting to him, that answer made much more sense.

"I've set up a meeting with the West end drug traders. You know the guys?" Junior asked as he sat down, getting right to business. His voice was a bit rough from two days of constantly talking and with his glasses off, Allen thought he looked sick. His eyes were completely bloodshot and his skin was a chalky white, making the almost black bags underneath his eyes stand out.

"Two men and one woman," Allen began, sending Junior a smirk to show off that the trick question hadn't tripped him up. "Names Cobalt Smith of da Boyz, Smoky of the Handymen, and Sapphire Blackwater of the Blackgaters." He listed them off, ticking the names off his fingers.

Junior nodded, "right. All of them have a cornerstone in the West end of Vale, but we can't get all of them. They hate each other, business reasons, so they won't play nice with us if we try to make them work together underneath me. I want you to pitch the drug to each of them, find one that you think will work and help them edge out the other two." he explained and Allen nodded in understanding.

Focus was just the bait. A hot new drug that would make whoever sold it a lot of money, making them...well, loyal was bit of a strong word but making them understand that working with the Gang would make them rich. Then they would offer to help them take over the entire West end, and by that time their...loyalty...would be secured.

"Alright. When and where?" Allen asked as he stood, making Junior smile.

The kid was a real go get'er.

"Dock four, nine and thirteen. I've arranged them all today at different times so they shouldn't have time to find out that we're making the same offer to their rivals. From lowest to highest, twelve-thirty pm, three pm and six pm." Junior answered and Allen nodded to himself.

While it didn't give him enough time to prepare, it also didn't give them any time either. He could only imagine how awkward that would have been. Though, he wasn't exactly looking forward to speaking cutthroat drug dealers for the rest of the day.

"Got it, oh, before I go, is Amaranth awake? I need to ask her something before I go," Allen questioned and Junior nodded, not bothering to ask him what it was. He was far too busy for that. He was already on his scroll before Allen had even reached the door.

With his quest updated, Allen existed Junior's office and headed down to the medical wing. The Club was still mostly empty, but now that it was later in the day there was some traffic in the halls, so Allen wasn't a creeped out. Within a few minutes, he was standing outside of Amaranth's room.

"Are you making sure she doesn't escape?" Allen questioned Miltiades, who leaned against the wall and looked bored out of her mind. She gave him a dull look in response, internally debating if she would even answer the question before she shrugged.

"She's a valuable...guest. Junior doesn't want her to get herself killed and making bad blood between us and the Cinnabar family," Miltiades answered in a bored tone before she glanced at Allen suspiciously. "Unless you've managed to do that already," she said, an accusation in her tone.

"Nope," Allen said, popping the P, no small amount of smugness in his tone, "I think they liked me. Said I was welcomed in Minstrel as a friend." That got a reaction out of the red-clad girl. Her eyes widened just a smidgen and she stopped leaning on the wall.

Then, just like that, her face was back to her default blankness with a tinge of annoyance for good measure.

"They clearly don't have good taste in friends," Miltiades pointed out, her nose crinkling in distaste. However, her eyes had a glimmer of amusement in them.

"Ouch. And I'll have you know, I..." Memories surfaced of all the cruel and unusual pranks he had pulled on his mates and the ones that they pulled on him. Then add that to him being a career criminal... "Fair enough," Allen admitted, clicking his mouth shut. Miltiades gave him a predatory smirk, basking in her minor victory before she decided to cut off their...banter? Was this banter? Or was it just small talk?

Potential Love Interest. The words just appeared in his head and he had to blink hard to get them out. He wasn't going to pay any attention to that screen. It clearly didn't know what it was talking about. There was no way that Miltiades liked him. There, that look of exasperation! There was irrefutable proof that she didn't like-like him. He wasn't going to look for something that wasn't there. Miltiades didn't like him and that was that.

"You need to see her?" She gestured to the door and Allen nodded. With a look that told him that he was making all kinds of work for her, she reached behind her and pulled out a key. Which was weird because he knew that she didn't have any pockets back there and there wasn't much room to hide anything in that almost skin tight dress. The frills, maybe? Whatever. Allen was learning just to not question these kinds of things anymore.

Taking the key with a cheeky smile, which was answered by a roll of her eyes, he entered the room and was immediately beset by a glare from a very unhappy faunus.

"You," she said grumpily but Allen didn't pay that any mind. He wouldn't be a happy camper if he was strapped to a bed, far from home and being kept there by people he didn't know.

"Me," Allen agreed as he pulled up her new orders before holding them in front of her face for her to read. Understanding what he was doing, she turned her glare to the scroll and read through it, only speaking when she needed him to scroll down. A frown tugged at her lips as she read, slowly growing more and more intense as she reached the bottom.

When she looked up at him the glare she gave him was so intense that it was a shock that he didn't loose any health. Allen glanced at the orders, wishing he could read any of this because he wanted to know what was in there for him to deserve this, but tucked the scroll away, knowing that it was futile. He would have added learning the language, but his to-do list already felt like it was miles long.

"So...I'm just going to ignore how unhappy you are with me at the moment and ask for some advice. I'm trying to introduce Focus into the mass market and, well-" Allen started, pausing a moment to break the news in a way that made himself seem less stupid.

He was cut off by Amaranth let out a bark of laughter, "you have no idea what you're doing. Red out there told me a little about you...," she said, giving him a look over, at least as much as she could in her position.

Amaranth shook her head, "Oum...I actually thought you were some kind of experienced badass. I was saved by a rookie," she muttered more to herself but Allen heard her all the same. It really was amusing how disappointed she was with herself over that fact. And a little insulting. He was totally a badass.

"Let's just chalk it up to beginners luck. Or...bad luck?" Allen said, quickly pushing past how he managed to survive the other night and somehow managing to not get anyone killed. Well, no one that he didn't intend to kill. However, his olive branch was quickly dismissed with a shake of her head.

"No. It was a crazily stupid plan, but it was clever and the only one that you-we had," she said begrudgingly. Unlike the Malachite sisters, it didn't seem to be because they looked down at him but more because she expected more from herself.

Finally, a member of the opposite sex that wasn't actively disliking him.

"How much time do you have before you meet the drug traders in Vale?"

Allen glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, "counting the drive there...about thirty minutes." he answered, sounding deceptively calm. Gamer Mind did wonders for his poker face.

"Do you know anything about focus?"

"No,"

"Do you know anything about selling drugs?"

"I saw a guy sell pot once when I was in primary school." The look he received told him that didn't help him in the slightest.

"Fine. Crash course time. Just repeat what I say to the traders; Focus is a chemical enhancement developed by the Cinnabar family in Mistrel. It increases the presence of certain proteins and hormones in the brain to enhance synapses connectivity. Meaning that the drug doesn't make people smarter, just more focused and think much faster. Repeat it," Amaranth ordered and Allen did so, managing to remember most of it on his first try.

It took a few times but Amaranth was satisfied with his rendition.

"Good. Now, they're going to want specifics but don't give them any and don't give them the recipe before you have them under your thumb. Better yet, after giving the summary, don't say anything at all. Give them a taste, it should only take about a minute or two to kick in, and then just leave."

"You are the expert, but why?" Allen asked, thinking that didn't exactly sound like the best business tactic. Then again, he knew precisely piss all about business, so who was he to talk?

"It's a power play. They come to you so you get the upper hand in negotiation. Once they come off Focus, they'll want more and you are the only one in Vale that can make more; use that to cut yourself a bigger slice of the pie." Amaranth explained and Allen squashed a pang of squeamishness. So Focus was addictive...from the sound of it, very much so.

"No, it's not addictive," Amaranth said, starting Allen. He looked confused for a moment, earning a slight smile from her before she continued.

"Every rookie get cold feet before their first drug deal. I was no different," she explained, making herself seem older than she actually was. Allen wouldn't put her over nineteen if that. "But no, Focus itself isn't addictive at all. There's no chemical addiction...but there is a psychological one."

"Imagine feeling incredibly smart for around two hours. Things click faster, you understand things that only confused you before and everything suddenly makes so much sense. Then, at the end of those two hours, the high wears off." She continued and Allen understood what she meant.

"Then you suddenly feel like an idiot," he realized, thinking how awful that sounded. From being on cloud nine of intelligence to smashing your face into the dirt.

Out of curiosity, he pulled one pill out of his inventory and used Observe on it.

 **Focus- Pill developed by Amaranth Cinnabar. Buff: +10 to intelligence. +5 to Wisdom. Duration: 2 hours.**

Ohhhh...Observe was finally starting to give him useful information! Finally! While it was interesting to see that Amaranth herself developed the pill, he was more focused on the buffs that it gave. This was the first time he's seen anything that increased stat points. Before this, everything just restored hp and mana, the latter being useless because he hadn't spent any mana since he arrived on Remnant.

Allen was tempted to take it, just to see what it would do, but Amaranths warnings were fresh so he decided to pocket it again.

Amaranth gave him an inquisitive look before nodding her head, "don't taste your own merchandise. Ever. If you get addicted to it, then profits go way down." She warned before she answered the question that Allen had been about to ask.

"As for profits, each pill is worth about a hundred lien," she said and Allen blinked owlishly.

"I'm sorry, I think I miss heard you, it sounded like you said a hundred lien a pill?" He echoed and Amaranth just smirked at his reaction. He couldn't help but to think it belonged on a shark that was about to eat a fish whole.

"You heard right; a hundred lien a pill. It'll limit your buyers to the upper crust, but it's for the best. They're the only ones that can consistently buy more Focus so they never experience the crash." She explained further and Allen saw her point. You give this stuff to a highschooler and they'll be pawning off everything that they own, and several things that they don't, by the end of the week just so they don't have to feel what it's like to be an idiot again.

Taking a step back, Allen thought that was terrifying. The addiction wasn't chemical based but there certainly was a mental one. The fact people would pay so much just for two hours of mental elevation was just...people were going to ruin their lives to get their hands on this pill.

Allen crushed the guilt that tried to rise mercilessly. He wasn't about to back out of this. He was committed to this path.

"You got all of that?" Amaranth asked and Allen nodded mutely, going over all that he had learned.

"Yeah, I've got it," Allen said, giving the restrained woman a smirk. "Thanks for your help," he said as he used a finger to loosen a restraint around her wrist. Whether it would be enough for her to try to escape again was up to her.

Amaranth smiled up at him as he walked away, waving goodbye over his shoulder. He had learned a lot thanks to Amaranth, so he figured it was the least he could do. Dew wouldn't be happy with him if he found out, but he hardly needed to see a doctor when he could heal with rates that surpassed regeneration.

Closing the door shut, he handed the key back to Miltiades.

"Learn how to do your job?" She asked dismissively, sparing him a lazy glance.

"No," Allen said honestly. What Amaranth gave him a good base to jump off of, but he still felt like he was flying by the belt of his pants. It was better than nothing but it wasn't enough. "But I know enough to BS my way through it," he stated openly and earned a huff of amusement from Miltiades.

"Hoping for another lucky break?"

"I'm positive that luck had no hand in what happened the other day.

...

The docks looked different during the day. Less ominous and like it was a place where criminals would do their shady deals. If it wasn't so empty, it might have even been a nice place to visit with a bit of spit and polish.

"This place creeps me out more in the day than at night," one of the men behind him said as he looked around, searching for the source of his unease. He seemed to voice the other three men that flanked and trailed behind Allen because they all glanced over their shoulders.

Junior sent these guys with him to make sure the drug traders didn't get any ideas during the meetings. So, they were basically his bodyguards for the rest of the day.

Yet, he glanced at their levels and he was one higher than all of them. That and the fact all of them had the jitters wasn't inspiring a lot of confidence.

"Don't worry Rosso, we're only going to be here for a good," Allen glanced at the imaginary watch on his wrist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ross looked stunned that Allen knew his name before looking a little smug.

Suppressing a grin, thinking that it was so very handy that everyone's names were hanging above everyone's heads, "eight hours or so." He continued and the smug look transformed into a grimace.

"That didn't help at all," Perie said as he looked over his other shoulder. Allen glanced at him, thinking that he was a little more skittish than he would have liked. However, he twisted his lips into an amused smile all the same to put the older man at ease.

"No, but ignoring that fact won't help at all. I've learned on more than one occasion that pretending a problem doesn't exist doesn't help solve it," he said, thinking that there were plenty of times that he still ignored the problem in the vain hope it would go away anyway. Perie nodded his head and swallowed the lump in his throat before throwing on a brave face.

Allen nodded in his direction and the older man relaxed. For what reason, Allen didn't have a clue.

"Alright. It's show time," he said more to himself as he neared the large doors. Before he could get cold feet, Allen cleared the remaining distance with two large strides and threw the door open carelessly. The interior of the warehouse looked much the same as the other one he was in, if brighter, and like before there was a table setting in the center of the large building.

With much more confidence than he felt, Allen strode into the building, never breaking eye contact with the man that was standing at the table with his arms crossed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw men leaning on the walls, large guns in their hands, much larger than his at any rate. He was completely surrounded and his heart only really started hammering away in his chest when the door slammed closed behind him.

The sounds of footsteps were a minor comfort but only a minor one.

'What am I even doing,' Allen silently asked himself as he neared the table. He knew the answer. He knew the who, what, when, where and why. Yet, as he stared at the large man, who's face was twisted into a glare, he felt so small and out of place.

"Evening Mr. Smith-," Allen began but was cut off by Cobalt spitting to the side of him. That wasn't a good sign.

"Cut the shit. You're here to sell me a drug and show me why it's better to work for you and blah, blah, fuckin blah. So, let's see it what's the big fuss is about." Cobalt's icy blue eyes searched for a bag in his guard's arms and he scowled when he didn't see one.

Before the situation could spiral out of control, he reached into his blazer pocket and removed a single pill. Allen held it up for him to see and flicked it over to him as he launched into the rough summary that Amaranth had all but instilled into him.

"That's Focus. Long story short, it increases focus while decreasing all those little thoughts that aren't important. No chemical addiction, but there is a mental one. The creator recommended selling to high-class clients for repeat business instead of peddling it at every street corner to those that'll bankrupt themselves before the week is over. A hundred lien a pill, to start." Allen finished. He figured that It'd be best to get to the point. He did not like how this guy was looking at him.

Despite, really, really, really wanting to, Allen realized that he couldn't just walk away. He needed to get a read on Cobalt and see if it was worth the trouble to back him.

Cobalt held the pill out to the light to view it better as if he could tell it's properties that way. Realizing that he couldn't, he threw his head back and flicked the pill into the air. Impressively, it fell right into his mouth and he slapped both sides of his neck to help it go down. Allen wasn't really sure why, but he decided to accept it.

"When should it kick in?" Cobalt asked, cracking his neck in a way that sounded more like a crunch. Allen resisted the urge to flinch at the sound as he answered.

"Depends. Someone with your build, I'd say a minute, if that."

Cobalt looked faintly surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. Allen idly thought they looked like two caterpillars were resting above his eyes.

"That quick?" He asked, sounding how he looked. Allen just smiled, one end of his mouth quirking up just enough to show a little teeth. It looked positively sinister; Allen knew, he practiced in the mirror.

"Yes. Originally, it was destined to be a battlefield enhancer for the upper echelons. Fights end fast and it's intended use was to help give the commanders enough clarity to make a last-ditch effort at survival, or completing a mission. I suspect it varies from case to case," Allen lied through his teeth. He did it to make the drug sound much more impressive than it already was. There wasn't any harm in it, from what he could see. It wasn't like there was anything to contradict his story.

"Ohhh...," Cobalt said, seemingly delighted by the news. Allen watched him carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. This was actually his first time seeing anyone take a drug before, so he was a little curious if it would play out like the movies. He was beginning to doubt that it did when Allen saw it.

Cobalt's pupils expanded until his icy blue eyes were nothing but black. Then, faster than a blink of an eye, his pupil shrank until they were little bigger than a pin point.

"Nice," Cobalt mused and Allen was a little...disappointed by the lack of a reaction. He was half expecting, and hoping, that the man would flip out or something and begin writing a life changing math equation on the walls with a nail. It was a little anticlimactic, but oh well.

"This is very nice...a hundred lien a pop, you say? You could charge twice that for this. I feel like I could go back to school and not flunk out of remedial English now," Cobalt mused to himself, glancing down at his hands in new found fascination. Allen briefly looked amused before he shook his head.

"We're catering to the upper class, but if we double the price tag then we'll only be dealing with the top cheeses. Lower price but-" Allen began explaining before he was cut off.

"But a wider client base. Yeah, I hear you," Cobalt said, an edge of annoyance making it in his tone. He tore his gaze from his hands and looked at Allen.

Allen looked back, his face impassive but a familiar knot of tension formed in between his shoulders. Really, if it was going to spend so much time there, then Allen had half a mind to start charging it rent. He disguised his discomfort by clearing his throat with a sly grin playing at his lips.

"So, are you interested?" He asked and Cobalt crossed his arms again, snorting at the question.

"Depends. What's the price tag? Joining that twat Junior?" Cobalt asked before he turned his head and spat on the ground. The men behind Allen bristled at the sound of their boss being bad mouthed but none of them reacted. Neither did Allen, his grin frozen in place.

'Well, that's not a good sign,' he mused to himself. He crossed this guy's name off the list of who to back.

A silence stretched on for a few moments, the men behind Allen shifting ever so slightly and he could see the guards above them hold their guns at the ready. Despite being much further away, Allen idly realized that he was starting to get used to having a gun pointed in his direction. How moderately terrifying.

"I would have worded that a bit differently, but yes. That's especially the price tag," Allen admitted, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He gripped his pistol, wishing that he had a much larger gun, while it remained in his inventory. If he was lucky, he would be able to put them down with a bullet each and end the fight before it began.

Cobalt snorted, "really, he has some balls, I'll give him that. I lost plenty of my guys trying to get my hands on that cargo, so I wasn't in much of a position to say no to that offer." He began and Allen shifted slightly. Wasn't. That was past tense.

"Now, though," he continued before he gestured for one of the men that stood off to the side to come forward. "I've recently found some more manpower at my hands. Very recently," he added as a duffel bag was tossed onto the table.

Allen glanced down at the bottom of it and noticed a dark stain that looked very fresh. He glanced up at Cobalt, who was grinning at him, looking so very proud of himself Slowly, Allen reached out with a steady hand and pulled back the zipper.

In it was what he expected to see. Two heads, one man and one woman. From the blood and the wounds on their faces, Allen guessed that their passing wasn't a peaceful one.

This was also the first time he had ever seen a dead body. His first reaction was to flinch back, to get away from the severed heads but he crushed the instinct into nothing. He could not afford to show weakness right now. Instead, he swallowed his disgust and squeamishness before slowly zipping the duffel bag back up.

"You pricks tried to make a fool out of me! Handing out the same treats to the three of us and picking the one you liked the best! Then what? You'd help out your favorite wipe out the two of us and make yourselves the new drug trade on the West end? Fuck that! Fuck you!" Cobalt raged, spittle flying from his lips as Allen remained motionless.

This...This was going to hell in a hand-basket.

"I just can't catch a break," he muttered to himself but Cobalt roared over him.

"I'm the fucking drug trade on the West end! ME! You bloody suits are trying to take my business? TRYING TO OVERTHROW ME?" He screamed, veins bulging in his necks as his face darkened into a furious red. The sneer he wore before twisted into a feral snarl and Allen half expected him to start foaming at the mouth.

"I'll-" Cobalt continued to rage but he was cut off with a loud bang and a new tunnel through his brain. The gunshot seemed to echo in the large room, none of them had really expected it. Slowly, Cobalt tilted backward, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he crashed with a meaty thunk.

Allen looked down at the gun in his hand, wisps of smoke lazily emerging from the barrel.

'I just killed someone,' he thought to himself as he turned the gun to the side to look at it better. It wasn't the first time, Allen knew that but it had only been days since his first...yet, he really didn't feel anything about the murder he had just committed. There wasn't even those twinges of regret or sadness that plucked at his heartstrings and plagued his thoughts when he was alone.

Now that...that scared him.

Cobalt had simply been too dangerous. He was openly antagonistic to Junior and him on top of killing hit competitors, leaving him as the only option to pick from. He would never have played ball because he had it in his head that he could take on the Gang. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't. It didn't matter now.

He had been in the way of Allen's job; introducing Focus into the drug market. Now he wasn't.

"Look, I know some of you are going to be upset that I just killed your boss," Allen began, making a show of putting his gun away. He felt the eyes on him like weights and he was thankful that he wore his blazer. That way they could see his undershirt was slowly being soaked through with a cold sweat.

"However, in my defense, he was going to try and kill me. Then I would have killed him, you guys would have tried to kill me because your boss did, then I would have to kill all of you. I don't want to do that. You'll die meaningless and pointless deaths, your families will go hungry and, above all else, it would be a waste." Allen continued as he slowly turned around to face the guards that surrounded them.

Lies. All lies but lies that would give him time to think of how not to die in this situation.

His bodyguards looked tense, their guns at the ready, but Allen held up a hand and gestured for them to lower them. Three of them obeyed instantly, not wanting to ruin whatever plan he had...ah...they gave him so much credit that he didn't deserve. If only they knew that he was flying by the seat of his pants...

Allen narrowed his eyes at the last one, who was torn between looking between the dead body, Allen and the men that surrounded them, all of which looked equally clueless. When he saw it, the man flinched backward, almost bad enough that he dropped his gun. Looking away from Allen's gaze, the man lowered his gun.

Once he was sure that his guys wouldn't start the fight, he turned his attention back to those that surrounded them. He almost started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of this situation. Honestly, if anyone had told him before his death that he would have to talk down a room filled with gunmen after murdering their boss in cold blood, he would have called them a loon before laughing in their face.

Trying to make a show that he was utterly unconcerned with his situation, Allen continued turning, making eye contact with all of the gunmen as he did so, until he did a 360. Then, with a little hop, he sat on the desk and let his legs dangle off the floor. His bodyguards took position around the desk, looking very professional as they did so.

Swallowing whatever nervousness he felt, Allen continued to bullshit his way out of this situation.

"I'm going to be frank with you lot. Junior, the Gang, we're going to take over the underworld. Simply put, there's no one that can really stop us and those that try, well," he made a 'what can you do' face as he jabbed a thumb at the freshly made corpse behind him. The gunmen shifted at that but they weren't pumping him full of lead, so Allen figured that was a good sign.

"None of you have to die here. Not today. Not out of loyalty to some guy that had too much pride that he was willing to throw away your lives just so he could hold onto the power that he had for just a little longer..." he trailed off, wondering how to continue. He was just saying whatever came to mind and hoping that it sounded cool enough that they wouldn't just kill him.

Keep going.

"Basically, what I'm trying to say is that you have two choices. The first, you kill us," Allen said, really, really, really hoping that they didn't pick that option. Despite all the evidence provided in the last few days, Allen really did like living. He ignored how uncomfortable the words felt as he said them before continuing.

"However, assuming that I don't kill all of you before you kill me, then you'll have the wrath of the Gang to deal with. Junior is a decent man, but he has a temper and I like to think I'm his favorite lackey. So, kill us and one way or another, you all die. Possibly in a horribly, brutal way." He said and the gunmen glanced at each other at that. Their guns twitching in their hands and the silence stretched on and on as Allen waited for a gunshot.

After what felt like an eternity, Allen saw that it wasn't coming. He took in a breath, noticing how painfully dry his mouth felt before he held his hands out wide.

"Or, you can work for me, and, by extension, work for Junior." Allen heard himself say, his voice reverberating in the large room with a lot more confidence than he felt. That earned a reaction from the gunmen and Allen saw what he wanted to see from one of them out of the corner of his eye. The sub-machine gun lowered just a little bit, enough to see that they were considering his offer.

"I'm sure you've heard this pitch a thousand times and a thousand times you've been disappointed. But I mean it when I say that if you work for me, you'll be rich. Ask any of these four, they know that I pay well and I'm rather generous when it comes to bonuses. I don't shit on those that work below me and, hell, if you want you can even have dental insurance." He said with a wide smile on his face, holding his hands to the ceiling in a helpless shrug.

"Work for me lads, and you'll be rich, happy and have a winning smile. Kill me and you'll all die a horribly painful death. It's not much of a choice, is it?" Allen asked rhetorically as he scanned the gunmen one last time, watching as they wavered underneath his words.

Then he saw it. The guns lowered.

Allen barely managed to stop his shoulders from sagging in relief. Instead, he clapped his hands and smiled wildly.

"Excellent choice! Rosso, Perie, Oliver, Cyan," he said, getting the attention of his four bodyguards. He missed their looks of absolute awe that were directed at him, both for knowing their names and somehow getting themselves out of this death trap. "Make sure that none of them get any ideas and get some basic information from them; like where they operate out of, how many they are and where they keep their drugs." He ordered and the men jumped to obey.

Once the gunmen were being occupied by his bodyguards, all of them looking unsure what they should do but none of them looking hostile, only then did Allen let his shoulders drop. He glanced down at his hands, which were curled around the edge of the table with white knuckles. He raised one hand and saw that it was trembling lightly.

To hide that fact, he curled it into a fist and stood up. He liked to think it was the adrenaline in his system and not the slowly leaving terror that had gripped his heart.

"That was close," he whispered to himself before walking around the table to the man he had killed. He looked down at it for a moment before he crouched down and dug through his pockets, finding the scroll he had been searching for a second later. It should have some information on it that was worth knowing.

Like how Cobalt had known about the meetings. The window of opportunity was small, less than an hour. In that half hour, not only did Cobalt know about the meetings but he managed to act on the information that was given to him.

It was far too little time for him to hear it through the grapevine, and maybe he had spies in the competitions camp but either way, Allen didn't like it. Not one bit.

After shoving the scroll into his inventory, Allen took out his own and dialed Junior's number. The first ring had barely ended before his boss answered.

"Allen? Did something happen?" Junior asked urgently, sounding worried. Allen smiled lightly at the concern and that seemed to take the edge off of Junior's worry. That, or the lack of gunfire.

"Depends on what you consider something wrong, I suppose," Allen said, sounding thoughtful.

"Am I going to like this?" Junior asked, sounding very weary. He was starting to learn that things blow up in Allen's face in the most spectacular fashion. This was only his second job too...

"Well, all three heads of the drug trade in the West end are dead. Cobalt killed two of them before the meetings, so either we have a mole or he had one and acted on the information. He wasn't willing to bend the knee, called you a twat a few times, which is neat because I think my curses are becoming a trend-" Allen said, going on a tangent but the sound of Junior's fingers snapping drew his attention.

"Focus Allen. What happened?" Junior demanded, trying to get the teenager back on track.

"He caught a very unfortunate case of death. The apparent cause was a bullet to the head. I'm not too sure what happened after that. I just started rambling about stuff, but I think I bullshitted my way into becoming the West ends drug trade...as in all of it since there's no one else. Well, the other two gangs are going to put up some resistance, but I doubt they'll be able to do much. Hopefully, they'll just join." Allen said, looking over his shoulder. He saw the gunmen had set their guns to the side and were now making small talk with his bodyguards.

What a day this was.

When Allen looked back at the screen, he saw Junior just staring at him. Allen stared back, feeling unease. Thankfully, it wasn't 'I'm upset with you and I can't find the words to let you know exactly how upset I am' kind of stare. It was more of a 'I'm so bloody done with this' kind of look.

Then, surprising Allen, Junior let out a chuckle. Slowly, the chuckle grew and grew until Junior couldn't stop himself from throwing back his head and howling in laughter. Allen watched him as he beat on his desk, gasping for breath as he tried to form words but he lacked the ability at the moment.

Smiling back, looking thoroughly amused by the reaction. The laughter stretched on for a few minutes, tears running down Junior's cheeks as he gasped for air.

"Allen...don't ever change. You're perfect the way you are," Junior said, shaking his head as he chuckled.

The words were like a punch to the gut. His heart throbbed painfully and his smile became strained.

'I'm a murderer. A drug dealing murderer,' he thought to himself. This is who he was now, no amount of good deeds could change that. They wouldn't overshadow the bad he's done and the bad he was going to do.

And, just like that, Allen realized that it was too late. He had already changed.

 **Now, there are a few things I want to clear up since I don't think I did a great job of it in the chapter.**

 **I know that** **Miltiades** **liking Allen feels like it came completely out of the left field and that's because it did. Allen, despite this being written in third person, is an unreliable narrator. I write the story how he interprets things with the information that he has. For example, when Melanie and** **Miltiades** **were arguing about who got to train Allen; Allen thought it was because both of them wanted to kick his teeth in.**

 **That wasn't the case. Melanie wanted to kick his teeth in because he was the object of her sister's affections and she didn't approve of him. Maltides was arguing because she wanted to spend time with Allen and slowly get to know him to see if he was worth considering dating. However, Allen dosen't know that and thus I didn't write it in a way that you could really know that unless you put your tinfoil hat on and put more thought into this story than I do.**

 **Also, Allen in this chapter was kind of all over the place but I wanted to show how conflicted he was feeling about what he was doing. Allen isn't a psychopath and he has morals. However, he's also greedy and knows that a life of crime is his only real option at the moment. That, and he's enjoying his taste of the high life.**

 **I hope that made things a little bit clearer for everyone! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, leave a review telling me what you think!**


	7. AN

So, um, I have a confession to make. I have had just downright monstrous writer's block for this story for months now. I have been trying to write it, I tried at least once a day, but I always end up staring at my screen with nothing new being written except for a handful of sentences that just didn't flow. So, in an attempt to get the creative juices flowing, I started to write something that had a similar premise to this story.

I thought I would just write a thousand words or so then I could push this chapter out. I was wrong because I, sorta, started writing my own original piece of fiction by complete accident and I think I'm going to take a shot at getting it published. I haven't decided the format, and I still need to figure out what I'm doing since I have no clue how to go about publishing a book, but it is going to happen.

What does this mean for this story? I'm sorry, but I think it has to be abandoned. I don't like it; it's my first story I've ever posted, and I had such big plans for it, but I can hardly write two stories with such similar premises at the same time.

I am very sorry.


End file.
